Showing posts with label teenagers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label teenagers. Show all posts

Tuesday, 15 May 2012

The Festi-Girl

I went to a music festival this weekend.

I enjoyed it.
The only problem was once I walked through the festival gates all I saw was this.



I then realised I had discovered a new species – the festival girl. Also known as the Festi-Girl.
Given their attire and the temperature at this particular festival I can only hope that they will soon become endangered. More on that in a minute.
The festival girl is a young woman (most likely a teen) who attends a music festival in the hopes of ensnaring a partner by wearing little clothing and racing about the place. The fact that the purpose of the very festival is to listen to music is irrelevant. They call to one another in high pitched squeals and often embrace by throwing their arms and legs around the other person and spinning around. For example “SaaaaaarrrrrrrraaaaaAAAHHAHHHHHH!!!” Imagine that the capitalised letters are in a higher tone. And by “higher tone” I mean blood will gently cascade from your ears.
These girls attend music festivals in little packs so as to attract as much attention as possible from moronic young males who can be seen wearing hats with little propellers on them and tight, tight pants. When the two sexes meet they interact with a dialogue consisting of monosyllabic responses punctuated with giggling and hair flicking.
Before their targets have been sucked in they need to prune themselves into an appropriate state of skankiness. This involves each girl in the group choosing a complete outfit which makes them looks like they’ve stumbled out of a forest having been lost for at least three days without shelter.
Let me explain. Starting from the top. The festival girl likes their hair to be long, messed up and often badly dyed. They believe that festivals are a time to reunite with 70s era (not that they are aware as anything that happened less than a year prior is not worth knowing) by wearing a band around their heads which often pulls their raggy hair up in an odd bun. This is to make them seem bigger and more of a threat to other festival girls that may be “snakin’ [their] man”.
Then there’s the make-up. In the words of every great consumer “more is more” and these festival girls certainly provide. Under their layers of foundation, which are only a colour match to the rest of their bodies in the dark, are several million layers of fake tan. This fake tan covers their entire bodies and they feel that looking orange, brown and speckled in most areas is the best way to achieve a state of true beauty.
Now if the messy hair and dirty looking skin doesn’t make you think they’ve emerged from a hedge then just check out their “clothes”. Festival girls prefer to wear clothing that leaves very little to the imagination. After all they have to be quick about their advances to the opposite sex after all any minute they might grow up and be taken seriously. First, I assume there is basic underwear – often their brassieres, which hold nothing but scrunched up tissues and a lot of hoping, are on display for everyone to see. In the world outside the festival it is more appropriate to cover this up but as it is a festival the illusion of covering it up is all that is necessary which is why festival girls where a singlet that looks like it has been through a lawnmower. Next come the shorts. A festival girl must show off as much leg as possible. It is a double bonus if they can get away with their bottoms hanging out the back. Usually they take regular pants and cut them to within an inch of their life, leaving the now exposed pockets to dangle limply against their orange thighs. It is not in a festival girls’ knowledge to check the back of their thighs for cellulite and cover up as festival girls are not designed to look backwards – always forwards. Possibly upwards. Add some oversized lace-up boots and we’re done.
Over the course of the day I noticed every festival girl I saw looked a) exactly like the one before her and b) miserable. I was confused. Why would they attend a music festival – which is meant to be fun – only to look sour? Then I realised. A festival girl’s life is filled with drama. If they have no drama going on then they die. Festival girls live in a state of anger, shame, guilt, confusion and lust. These emotions usually culminate in a series of episodes which they act out during the day such as: cheating on someone, being cheated on, actually speaking your mind, getting insulted, losing your friends in a crowd and being unbelievably unprepared for the weather.
Which leads me to my final point... when you think of a music festival you think of sunny skies, green grass, heat, snow cones and laughter. The music festival I was attending was in a climate where my car was covered in ice by the time I went home. Needless to say that an anorexic pair of shorts wouldn’t cut in this weather. I would look pretty miserable too if I had dressed entirely for the opposite sex and under the pressure of my festival girl group – mostly because I would be cold. I was wearing a snow jacket and ear muffs and I was having a great time! I can only assume since the festival ended at a temperature of -2 degrees that they perished.
One can only hope.     

Saturday, 7 January 2012

Pre-requisites for Becoming a Teen Mom:

1.       Must dye hair colour at least twice every month. Must be peroxide blonde at least once.

2.       Must have long garishly coloured acrylic nails – see previous blog for more details.
3.       Needs to say “like”, “I thought he had changed” and “I never realised being a mom was so hard” a lot and without noticing the irony.
4.       Optional ability to cry unattractively – see appendix one “Farrah”.
5.       If applicant has parental units that are willing to help with the union product then they must be ungrateful and rude at all times which may consist of but is not limited to:
o   Using a nasally tone
o   Having a bitchy attitude
o   Saying “I know that, Mom” when being told something they didn’t know
o   Arguing for no reason
o   Making stupid mistakes
o   Crying over the fact that everything has been handed to you even though you went and made a really stupid mistake and yet you still haven’t got the 70 inch plasma flat screen you always wanted.
once again see appendix one “Farrah” who will be, for the further duration of this blog, titled as Little Bitch Cryface.
6.       Choosing a hopeless partner who may present one or all of the following features:

o   A cap either worn normally but often backwards, sidewards etc
o   Dirty, dirty boy stubble
o   Some form of body “art” – tattoo, piercing, stretch earring etc
o   Must wear oversized clothes either shirt or pants
o   Must say “I’ll definitely help with the baby”, “I want to be there for you and the baby” and “I love and care for you and the baby”.
o   Must then renege on one or all of the previous point’s statements. Preferably by just walking out and never returning except to leave badly constructed text messages on the applicant’s phone.

7.       Applicant for “Teen Mom” status must have at least one piercing on their person. Extra points will be considered for hideous around-the-mouth-often-gets-mistaken-for-a-pimple piercings.
8.       Must always be heavily in debt and/or in need of money and must discuss this constantly.
9.       Preferable if the applicant makes a constant yet ever unsuccessful attempt to get their high school diploma or equivalent whilst always talking about how they will “definitely” get it.
10.   Applicant must have awful first name preferably misspelt. Examples include: Catelynn, Jenelle, Nikkole, Kailyn, Christinna, Cleondra.
11.   Once passing the previous pre-requisites and receiving the union product they will then badly name and misspell their own badly named product. Here are some applicants’ previous choices – Aubree, Alleah, Genesis, Carolynn, Jace, Neveah, Jordynn, Brooklynn, Kay’Den, Destiny, Rylan, Kylee, Aydenn.   

12.   Must be between the ages of 13 – 19.

13.   Must be female.

14.   For extra credit points the successful applicant may choose a second hopeless partner, or return to first, and conceive, badly name and badly raise one or more extra children.
Appendix One – Farrah/Cryface
This could be you!

Monday, 24 October 2011

Eye Yi Yi

I've held this blog in long enough, quite frankly, and now is the time it needs to come out. In full force.
Ladies of the world...

TONE DOWN THE EYE LINER.

Dear god, I see girls gadding about with so much eyeliner on they look like a strange new species of sleep deprived lemur.

It is NOT a good look. I don't understand why they do it.

Is it some sort of defence mechanism? Excessive amounts of eyeliner reduce their visibility so that they look more mysterious when they flick their heads around when in fact they are just trying to get a grasp of their surroundings.

I don't think they use eyeliner pencils - on no - they aren't strong enough. They use roller brushes that would usually be used on houses and dunk them into the most waterproof eyeliner in existence. That or tar. Given the potency and frequency of these coatings they get over a kilo and a half of eyeliner slathered onto their face. They must have the neck muscles of champions keeping their wee heads up so as to keep a well coloured eye out for potential mating partners.

We've all had the scenario where you go to sleep (possibly upside down or under a bed) and haven't had the capacity to remove your eye make up prior. The well known panda look results - but this is different! These girls are guilty of an intentional lemur look.
It reminds me of those old cartoons where one character plays a joke on the other by putting black paint on the rim of the other character's telescope (or whatever circular looking object is nearby) and then the other one gets a big black ring around their eye and looks like a total fool. These total fools are doing it on purpose!

Stop it, ladies! Just stop it! If you do I will rub my eyes in disbelief and not smudge my own eye liner.