My bullshit tolerance level is zero. I am sarcastic and cynical,
logical and level headed. I speak my mind and don't lie. I have a
tough exterior to guard against the thieves of sincerity, but the
inner sanctum is still unsullied by constant dismay. I laugh with
my whole heart. I surround myself with good friends. I can be silly
and girly at times, rough and tumble with the boys at other
I didn't mention it before because I hate putting so much emphasis
on the physical, but I've had strangers reach out and touch my
hair. Old ladies, little boys, etc. They touch my hair and are
surprised that it's not a wig or chemically processed into feeling
like straw. My hair is bright red -- orange, according to my five
year old neice.
My eye color is also a thing that people notice. I've been accused
of weraing color contacts; Sorry folks! these blues are all mine,
the contacts as just so I can watch telly.
Let's not bullshit, I'm so pale
I'm nearly translucent. I'm aware of
this and don't care. I have freckles
from my youth spent in the
sun, but I have noticed that as I got older and went out of doors,
my skin doesn't react to the light like it did when I was a child.
I burn. Terribly. Ten minutes in the full sun without SPF 55 UVA
and UVB waterproof/sweatproof all day sunblock -- I'm as red as a
boiled lobster. After fifteen minutes, I start to blister. So, I'm
really pale. No big deal. I have no wrinkles and am not risking
skin cancer or spending stupid money in a tanning bed
"cooking/crisping" my skin to a dark tan. When I'm sixty, I'll have
tight pale skin while those numb cunts
who go tanning every week
will look like leather handbags.
Okay, so with all that in mind and paired with the provided photos
... No Little Mermaid jokes, no Powder jokes, no Wendy's jokes, no
albino jokes, no Ronald McDonald jokes, no ginger jokes. Got it?