You know what, Mischa? I'm out.
I don't even know what to say any more. If this is how you want to live your life -- as some sort of footsoldier in the Headband Army that's led by General Blair Waldorf and Brigadier General Aubrey O'Day, with an assist from Colonel Mary-Kate Olsen and the toolshed that is 90210 -- then I need to accept that I'm powerless to stop you. But that doesn't mean I have to LIKE IT. So every day when you're trying to decide which woven halo of nonsense to roll onto your head, and how much stringy hair to fluff out around it ("Hmm, shall I go full Bjorn Borg today, or something more severe?"), just know that I am SERIOUSLY DISPLEASED.
I don't even know what to say any more. If this is how you want to live your life -- as some sort of footsoldier in the Headband Army that's led by General Blair Waldorf and Brigadier General Aubrey O'Day, with an assist from Colonel Mary-Kate Olsen and the toolshed that is 90210 -- then I need to accept that I'm powerless to stop you. But that doesn't mean I have to LIKE IT. So every day when you're trying to decide which woven halo of nonsense to roll onto your head, and how much stringy hair to fluff out around it ("Hmm, shall I go full Bjorn Borg today, or something more severe?"), just know that I am SERIOUSLY DISPLEASED.
