Selena Gomez has come to that crossroad in her life when she realizes boys are pigs, the people she thought were her friend were just using her, and she’s better off staying home at night watching TV and eating ice cream. Only she’s not in seventh grade adjusting to her period, she’s twenty-three and owns a mansion. Don’t judge her. We all have trust issues.
“People are like, ‘We want you to be better!’… And everybody’s like, ‘I want you to be healthy, I want you to be happy, I want you to be this.’ And then the moment you’re trying to find some sort of happiness, it’s so crazy. It’s not safe for anyone!” You can’t talk about anything that you want to share with people because it’s going to be ripped apart, and that’s what makes me really sad… I have a right to say what I’m going to say.”
Damn, straight. A couple years of regular like schooling might’ve like helped. But I surmised your point.
While she’s working her way through the briar patch of life, Gomez has decided to stop wearing bras. Something had to be done. If only all women robbed of their childhood by ambitious self-serving show parents would expose their tits. Most do. But we can do better.
The second law of the intellectually challenged version of Newtonian physics states that for every social media trend, there is a counter-trend of equally moronic proportions. Insecure celebrities post self-promotional photos and platitudes with hearts so that girls who don’t see the value in Algebra can praise them with poor grammar. Trolls appear to shame the celebrities with third grade insults. The targets of derision claim for themselves the ultimate high ground of being happy with themselves. Self-satisfaction is the pinnacle of personal achievement. I think it used to be dedication or charity or something stupid.
Selena Gomez went onto Twitter to assure people that comments about her chub rub aren’t going to make her feel any less awesome about raking in ten mill a year being a singer who can’t sing. Or the fact that she’s had Justin Bieber’s Canadian pee-pee in her pipes.
Sometimes I get frustrated when I hear lies about who I am. The Internet is meant to keep you ‘updated’ but it just takes old news and freezes it like it’s now.” You have watched me in pain and I’ve owned up to it through my music and actions. I grew up with you.” I am beyond excited to show you the next chapter, the TRUTH. I’ve been keeping so many secrets. I’m reborn in every moment so who knows what I’ll become. As long as I’m happy with me. #strongisbeautiful #healthyperspectiveonthemfools.
I’m not one to put two and two together, but this certainly sounds inspired by, if not ripped off from Vagina Dad as he burst forth from his Malibu pupae into Caitlyn stage. I’ve been through the struggle of being rich and famous. I’ve got secrets. My TRUTH is in all caps. Don’t throw me in the briar patch. I’ve already won.
I’m feeling super positive today. I think it’s the GMOs in my seal pup jerky. If that Britney Spears and Australian Albino clusterfuck music video is the new pop baseline, this Bad Blood music video from Taylor Swift featuring half of the in-shape women in Hollywood is pretty damn amazing.
I think we got problems
I wish we could solve them
Right, don’t listen to it. Just watch. It’s clear this super tall rich chipmunk is the girl who throws the pajama parties all the good looking girls and also Lena Dunham go to. Those mythical events I always dreamed about while blasting Def Leppard with my door locked. I just assumed like virgin Puerto Rican girls or lazy Koreans they were just urban legend. No so. All the girls are here and making millions. Watch the video thrice then return to Twitter to echo some shit about women not getting paid in Hollywood.
After Selena Gomez was apparently fat shamed on Instagram by trolls hired by her public relations team, she decided to speak out on behalf of all the twenty two year old chicks who could maybe lose six ounces:
“IM IN the business and I could care less about what ‘they’ or you said I should look like. I don’t need to do anything other than love myself, take care of my work, fans, family and friends… And I do work out. It’s not your place to tell anyone what they should or should not do.”
You shouldn’t stick your finger in the toaster. That could lead to cancer. Getting saline bagletts implanted into your body with a rusty scalpel still lacks a scientific consensus. Like vitamins or reading the news. I don’t want to be cynical but I think Gomez is capitalizing on the whole body image movement fiasco. I’ll play hard ball. Mexican chicks are like a soft cheese. Delicious and then check the expiration date. This one says 25. The thing about fans is, they’re fickle. Not really inclined to have your back if they can’t touch their fingers around it. I didn’t ask for this card but I’ll play it. Why is your thigh a lego?
When you’re a big photographer deal like Mario Testino, you just say shit like, I’m doing a towel series, and half of Hollywood’s good looking women are clamoring to get naked in your studio. Try that same pitch on Craigslist and see how many girls with natural born vaginas show up to your apartment door. The answer is zero. I also got punched in the face. Selena Gomez is Testino’s seventieth something famous chick to pose in just a towel. It’s not the least bit fresh or creative. That’s why it’s amazing. Fucker.
There’s a new directive for female celebrities posting online. Social statement or get the fuck out. Gender pay gap, rape culture, and body shaming are the trending three right now.Selena Gomez tap danced into body shaming, posting pictures of herself looking in a bikini and declaring:
I love being happy with me yall #theresmoretolove.
Adopting black culture is a shonda, but appropriating BBW culture seems to be cool. There’s more of you to love? You weigh ninety pounds wet. Not soaking wet, just intimately moist, as I imagine you to be when taking selfies of your fine body and pretending you’re a suffragette. Somebody needs to remind the pretty girls that they don’t do student council. They do cheerleading. You start fucking with the natural order and you’re left with chaos. The captain of the football team sleeps with the fat girl on oboe and the earth will go dystopian faster than you can say popular teen novel series. Let’s walk those hashtags back to #BikiniFuckable and we’ll actually be moving forward.