We have ventured into the greatest shadows of the amazon, we have rustled with the dust of the moon, we have toyed with particles, dissected reality, and unraveled DNA, but today, on this piece of paper we shall explore the greatest mystery the human race can face: teenage girls. As a member of the group I myself don’t understand half the things my counterparts do. The insight of endless chick flicks couldn’t give you is right here—a complete comprehension of who the hell teen girls are and what the hell they do. Enjoy this information; it is the extensive result of my less than ten minute analysis. On this page lies the complete classification of the female adolescent Homo sapiens.
- Our first subject: “The one who is stunning yet is convinced she is hideous” can be observed as she lurks around the girls’ restroom. Regardless of her lovely appearance, she bathes in makeup. Although her skin, eyes, and hair are flawless, she screeches like a howling mongoose to her less than lovely friends, “Ohhhhh look at me—I’m so fat, oh do you see this zit? I wish I looked like you…”. Relevant terminology: “compliment-fisher”, “mascara overkill, and “I want to punch you in the face”.
- Second, no female population could be complete sans the “the-girl-who-is-perfect-in-everyway-that-everyone-wants-to-murder”. We get it; you’re stylish, athletic, president of clubs that shouldn’t even exist (seriously, ping pong club?). You are not only equipped with the ability to sing, dance, and act, but also neither the laws of biology and physics can stop you from curing cancer with your tears. If you meet her, beware that this is a living specimen of beauty, brains, and brawn all stuffed into a size two figure. Have self-esteem? It will shatter from the mere enchanting fragrance of her ecologically friendly organic yet high end perfume. Relevant terminology: “Harvard”, “blonde perfection” and “I really want to punch you in the face”.
- Although easily recognized in movie theaters and refined restaurants “the chick who won’t shut up” is a staple in the female adolescent populace. We don’t care what movie you saw this weekend. We don’t care whether you failed the math test. We don’t care that you called the radio eight times and still were not the victor of Justin Beiber backstage passes. Yet you care about everything I say. Every conversation I have is an excuse for you to yap like an overgrown Chihuahua. It only takes a few syllables that you evesdrop on to spew a rant about how that half of my comment racist, or ignorant, or god forbid, not the same view as yours. Relevant terminology: “verbal vomit”, “ignorant intruder” and “I already punched you in the face.”
- We can’t forget “the nerdy girl who believes that if she watches Titanic enough times Leonardo DiCaprio will jump out of the screen and whisk her away to some place with no English homework”, even though she is forgotten virtually everywhere else. Locked away in a dungeon locals call a library, she longs for something more that the soft touch of derivatives in the evening. Yes, even though she still doesn’t have a Facebook account, she has friends. On the larger spectrum she is unnoticed until SAT scores are disclosed, for immediately after she is invited to all the best parties (none of which she will attend) in exchange for tutoring. She is not a bombshell, she is not an Olympian, she is not the life of a party, but she still believes that one day the Enrique Iglesiases of this earth will notice her. Or not. Relevant terminology: “the one who helped you pass physics”, “glasses—gasp!”, and “she was punched in the face by someone other than me”.
- Finally, our last and least: “PMS 24/7”. It doesn’t matter when or where, she’ll be whining and in your hair. She’s loud, obnoxious, bitter, overly sensitive, belligerent, morose, and steals everyone’s tater tots. If you had a shot gun, she would be dead. Her special skills include: making all your hair fall out, robbing the innocent of their tater tots, moaning, and laughing like a dying hyena. Relevant terminology: “just go away”, “earplugs please”, and “GIVE ME BACK MY DAMN TATER TOTS”.
There is no guarantee that any of this information will help you to survive interactions with these creatures, because you won’t. Just the mere expectation of meeting one of us is a legitimate reason to enroll in a life insurance plan. Facing a girl can be immensely deadly,, especially because the girl with PMS 24/7 is usually also the one who can’t shut up. Regardless of the many many faults each of the girls has, it could always be worse. Instead of teenage girls we could have vicious flesh eating aliens…but I have my doubts about that girl in my physics class...