A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Woman

Who am I?

I am a deeply complicated young woman.

I enjoy long walks, preferably in air conditioning.

I believe that the day is best started with a can of Red Bull Total (no sugar, no carbs) and a self-induced orgasm.

I have a masochistic affinity for exorbitantly priced designer footwear, despite the fact that it is a derivative of Chinese foot binding torture that has resulted in an unsightly Hallux valgus on both my feet (pain is beauty).

I have no time for you if you don’t know the difference between Sartre and Beckett; Chuck Palahniuk and Bret Easton Ellis; Tanqueray and Tanqueray 10. 

Preventative botox was my best idea ever. 

All of my friends are female, as the ones that were male all wanted to fuck me, and so it became semi-awkward.

The Unabomber rocking dem Aviators

I prefer reading New Scientist magazine over Cosmopolitan; Patricia Highsmith over Sophie Kinsella; the Unabomber Manifesto over The Secret (I “visualized” a hundred million dollars, so where the fuck is my money?).

I jaywalk because I can’t be bothered to walk the ten extra feet to the crosswalk (there's two minutes of my life I will never get back).

I enjoy pointing out to self-identified faux-Buddhist hipster “pacifists” that they still swat mosquitoes and take antibiotics (you murderers). 

I support strip clubs (as long as you’ve had your Twinrex vaccine), as they’re good grounds for research into what hair extensions never to buy.  

Cher Horowitz > Mother Teresa.

Bling bling, bitches

I have monogrammed, bejeweled license plate frames to make it easier for kidnappers to identify me.

My voicemail box is always full.

I’m a bit of a bitch…but hopefully an entertaining one, for all you fellow bitches out there.