Do you think I'm smiling? No. I'm only kind of smiling. The kind of smile you give when you are seventeen and have braces years after your peers because you didn't wear your retainer (due to the incessant slurping it forced you to do). The kind of smile you give when you wear all black (you are clearly SERIOUS) yet are forced to have a "merry" day in the Baltimore Inner Harbor. The kind of smile you wear when you are seething, almost ALL THE TIME, about your Constitutional Rights As a Teenager.
Can you be happy without a full set of Constitutional Rights? No. You can only grimace. That, and, in my case, drink raspberry Snapple.
I might have been interested in the Thomas Jefferson Center for the Protection of Free Expression's Muzzle Awards. Particularly number 13.
3 comments:
That's a wee Bershon you have going there.
Oh, I debated scanning the picture of all four of us sisters with the full-on Bershon, but one of my sister's hair was too big for the scanner.
(Sorry, Tin! Also, someone came to the site by Googling "Sweet Krissy Star Pasties." Is there something you'd like to share with me?)
In case you might think Bershon means "needs a better bra" and you didn't see the Finslippy post, here's what it means, according to Urban Dictionary:
Bershon is pretty much how you feel when you’re 13 and your parents make you wear a Christmas sweatshirt and then pose for a family picture, and you could not possibly summon one more ounce of disgust, but you’re also way too cool to really even DEAL with it, so you just make this face like you smelled something bad and sort of roll your eyes and seethe in a put-out manner.
My parents are making me pose for the Christmas card picture before I can go to the party. Way bershon.
I have to go to my brothers piano recital. Totally bershon.
I had NO IDEA there was a word for that.
Post a Comment