Roasting an emo chick

“Oooo look at me! I’m dark and mysterious! You’ll never figure me out!” Sweetie, you’re about as dark and mysterious as undercooked pasta. Let me guess. You like cemeteries and curiosity shops, you drink your coffee black and you have at least two “medical issues” that you blame most of your bland behavior on. Your last boyfriend left you because of your crippling depression which you refuse to treat because it’s your only talking point in most conversation. Most of your comments on social media start with “As a woman, I think…” and you’re the pretty one in your group of friends, but only because most of them are morbidly obese goth girls.


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