I was flipping through the channels on my uneventful night (snapchat and facebook got boring and my hangover finally went away. Seriously Sangria is a bitch), only to find Miss Universe 2012. Oh, how I could barely contain my excitement. Oh, how I too long for that stage. If I want to become a beauty queen I’d better start now. I am already so far behind. Girls are exiting the birth canal right now, and their mothers are slathering makeup and spray tan all over their tiny faces. I can’t forget my hemorrhoid creamed legs wrapped in cellophane either. Cellulite would be so unsightly during the swimsuit competition. I should call last year’s Miss America and ask her how her teeth stay so white even with all the anorexia. Oh silly me, I forgot about veneers. I’ll need to visit the dentist.
Now hmm, what’s next on the list? Perhaps daddy will pay for the boob job I so desperately need if I ever want to become a model. No wait, maybe I should form my platform of ideals and community service I will wish upon the world. Embodying a true American princess, I will have some photo shoots hugging some trees, kissing some babies, playing with puppies, but who am I kidding? I can’t be wasting my precious time with these difficult tasks. I have my pintrest wedding to maintain and new dresses to buy.
Now let’s focus on this year’s pageant. Snaps to our own amazing Miss Universe Olivia Culpo. Get it ‘Merica. Face it, you’ll never have eyebrows like her Miss Philippines. If you’re not first you’re last, suck it and back to the sweatshops with you. Who cares if Philippines’ answer may have been better. These girls are all about looking pretty not spitting philosophy, obvs. Just look at Miss Venezuela. Liv had it going on all night, except for that atrocious red evening gown. It did wonders for her rack, but seriously girl you’re not Cinderella (more of a Jasmine). Also did anyone else notice that Mr. Trump must be running out of ideas to keep the pageant popular? He pulled a card from the Hunger Games’ playbook with all of the silly country costumes. Miss Netherlands literally had windmills on her head, wtf. Also I must admit my serious girl-crush on Miss Australia. I am all about the red, white, and blue. I’m proud to be an American, but damn. If you didn’t see it, you’re lying to yourself.
The winner of Miss Universe, or any pageant for that matter, will obviously not be the one to save the most kiddies in Ethiopia. The winner will be the one with showered in the most sparkles in her ungodly fabulous evening gown, and the one with the best hair. Seriously, hair is key. When is the last time you saw a pretty girl with bad hair. It surely takes a bombshell to pull off a middle part anyways. However, right now I’m more than a few rhinestones short of a full tiara. Forget the boob job, I need a nose job and I am very short on time. Do I add this to my list of community service? I’ve changed my hideous self to become more like my idols – that has to count. Every girl in America should long, like me, to be a Barbie in reality. Life is a lot like a pageant, reach for that shiny crown. However, only the tannest, thinnest, prettiest will survive. It’s real life we all know the halo effect is real. Ugly girls you may have a ‘great personality’ but stop kidding yourselves. If you actually were successful there’d be out right chaos. We cannot have crazy girls running around all willy nilly with the features they’ve been given at birth, getting doctorates over M.R.S. degrees, and being pale … society would simply crumble! Gosh, this thinking has made me all sweaty. Gross.