Hell to the fucking lo. My name is Hannah. No, not just 'Hannah'. HANNAH. The one and only. Let's start off this shitty blog about my life with some facts about myself. You know, a little introduction. It's like the Asian before the black guy in the porn industry- you gotta start small. So, here's my Asian: I am a bitch... you'll learn that in due time. I adore, positively ADORE scarves, headbands, eyeliner, Adele, my purple sock hippo (Poppy), Broadway Musicals, skinny jeans, Juicy Couture, indie music, and craft paper. My favorite hobbies include drawing, sex, watching Gossip Girl, sex, reading, sex, writing, sex, cuddling, and more sex. I also love to hate people.
My besties include: Whoreseph (the coolest Avril-obsessed, Gaga-hating whore you'll ever meet), Guido (the sexiest Buffy loving, short bitch I've ever known), and HEW (the Galinda to my Elphaba). My favorite food is Nutella, and I eat it with a spoon; I enjoy laughing at and sometimes tripping the stupid people; and I am pretty much the most perfect person in the entire universe, as far as my opinion goes. I'm completely against abortion, completely for LGTB marriage rights, and I hate Obama. I used to be a vegetarian... then, my grandfather made steaks. I prefer winter and fall over summer and spring because I hate being hot (not physically, because I already am).
Now, to the important part. Why is my life such an anomaly? Well, because I'm so fucking diverse. I'm just... weird. Yeah, now you're disappointed because I had to quit being sarcastic... but seriously. I like literally every style there is of anything- that includes music, fashion, books, drawings, lifestyle... anything. The only things I truly resent are rap, rednecks, and rags (the "Three R's", if you will). Why? Because I've grown up around them... and familiarity breeds contempt.
Anyhoo, that's about it for now. I'm officially done with my small and slightly annoying Asian facts, and I'll be moving onto the bigger and better black guy sorta stuff next week. Now I have to go take a shower... because even though I may act like a hipster, I most certainly do NOT want to smell like one (just because you wear vintage doesn't mean you have to reek like vintage... GET THAT IN YOUR HEADS). I'll talk to you bitches next week.