Do you remember how it is in sixth grade, when your class divides up for the first time of the year to play red rover? And for the first time, you realize that picking teams isn’t actually about picking red rover teams, but choosing your alliances for the rest of the year, or maybe even all of junior high, or maybe even forever?
So there you are, with the choice between the team full of cool, nice, smart, free-thinking kids, and the team with THE DEVIL. Maybe yours was named Vanessa. Or Ashley. Or GWEN. She was blonde and bright, with a perky skirt and red lipstick, and she was the most popular and awful girl in sixth grade. Holding on to her arms on both side were mute, motionless, voiceless lackeys, her pawns. Popular and useless, and willing to defile themselves to remain on her fucking red rover team.
What did you decide, Mark? I’m going to venture a guess. You tucked your scrotum neatly in between your legs and chose GWEN. She told you to jump, you didn’t ask how high, you pursed your lips and leapt. If you had an opinion, she mandated that you stay silent. And when you danced? You danced like she wanted you to dance, how she told you to dance, because you were her bitch.
Why would I make such assumptions? Well, considering that you impersonated one of the enslaved, ill-fated Harajuku Girls so recently on So You Think You Can Dance, it seems only natural that you’d not only be willing to become a bitch’s bitch, you’d LOVE it.
Perhaps that’s why the cool, smart, free-thinking kids voted you off. Buh-bye.
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