Britney turns to Ghalib and grabs his arm. “I don’t want her talking to me!” she screams. She whirls around and stares the girl deep in the eyes, her lips almost vibrating with anger. “I don’t know who you think I am, bitch,” she snarls, “but I’m not that person.”
"…A perfectly proportioned twenty-six-year-old porcelain doll with a nasty weave."
"She is an inbred swamp thing who chain-smokes, doesn’t do her nails, tells reporters to "eat it, snort it, lick it, fuck it" and screams at people who want pictures for their little sisters. She is not someone who can live by the most basic social rules — she is someone who, when she has had her one- and two-year-old sons taken completely out of her care, with zero visitation rights, appeared at Los Angeles’ Superior Court to convince the judge to give her kids back, but then decided not to go inside, and she’s someone who did this twice.”
It seems like everyone around me is stuck in a phase. Everybody wants to fit in with a certain group. Come on, people. I tried to be a scene kid my freshman year, but I grew out of it because college taught me that appearances don't mean shit to anybody else and pretty soon they wont mean shit to you. So it's time for everyone else to just stop trying to fit in. Stop wearing a costume every day and start acting like you. Stop conforming to be a non-conformist. If you have to ponder whether others will like what you do, you're thinking too much. All I'm saying is to make your own crowd and don't try to fall into one. Because when I look at all the people my age, it looks to me like freshman year all over again.