do you ever roll up your sleeves to wash your hands and one of the sleeves starts slipping down like its attracted to the water and all you can think is “dont you fucking dare”
Beauty or brains?
Fuck that, it’s not a dichotomy. Let’s not act like mascara glues girls eyes so shut that they can’t read a word of Dickens or solve a trig problem. Let’s talk about how no boy has ever been asked if he’d rather get his Bachelor’s or get married; no boy has ever been told that he’s too handsome to run for office. So why cover up my tits so you can take me seriously?
Beauty or brains? I’ll take ‘em all, thanks.