WTF - Taylor Momsen And Me

I promised I would write this post, and I'm always promising I'll write about something or other, and then I don't, so I want to retain some level of consistency and write this. Here we go.

First of all, why do I have to state my opinion on Taylor Momsen? I do my best to imagine her complexly, unlike a lot of people. I mean, imagine if two people were talking about me:

Person A: I hate Eleanor.
Person B: Why? She seems nice.
A: What about that time she locked her little brother into the shed?
B: She was seven, and that only happened once. I think she's funny.
A: She's a snob too. She hardly ever talks to anyone.
B: She talks to me.
A: Yeah, but you're only one person.
B: You don't talk to everyone.
A: I talk to the people that matter.
B: I see.
A: Plus she's always going around in a t-shirt and jeans. She never puts any effort in.
B: I like her style. She has a cool coat.
A: Yeah, but I still hate her.
B: Oh.


Hey, Person B seems nice... But I digress. I mean, I think Taylor Momsen's awersome. Light Me Up is a fantastic album and I really enjoyed, and will continue to enjoy, listening to it. But I have to say something about her clothes now, don't I? I need to appease you all. You all want to see what I think about her.

But seriously! Who said I need to write this post? Who said I had to give a fuck about the girl with the red lipstick up there, at the top of this post? She doesn't care what I think about her. Why should she? She'll never know that I exist.

This is the end of the post.

Eleanor Roscuro