Confugsions of a Teenage Fugga Queen

 

LINDSAY: I'm hungry.

TAYLOR: No, I am.

LINDSAY: I'm disaffected.

TAYLOR: No, I am.

LINDSAY: I'm really into eyeliner.

TAYLOR: No, I am.

LINDSAY: I'm wearing nine yards of cheap fake hair.

TAYLOR: No, I am.

LINDSAY: I'm bleaching the hell out of it, too.

TAYLOR: No, I am.

LINDSAY: I'm wearing an insect ring.

TAYLOR: No, I am. ... Wait, no, I'm not.

LINDSAY: I'm wearing thigh-highs.

TAYLOR: For once, I'm not.

LINDSAY: I'm all messily orange and shit.

TAYLOR: Not I!

LINDSAY: I look like I got punched in the lips.

TAYLOR: Nope.

LINDSAY: See? We're nothing alike.

TAYLOR: NOTHING.