georgina sparks | 17 | ues + anywhere else i desire
Just because I was born a Park Avenue princess, doesn't mean I'm another 17-year-old socialite-in-training or future chairwoman or charity spokesperson. Being good doesn't interest me, and some say I'm an evil bitch...I don't disagree. I spend my time indulging in the finer things in life, and I max out my black AmEx with Alexander Wang and Proenza Schouler, McQueen and Atwood, because I can. Sabotage and schemes are my middle name, and I love a devious mind game when I'm bored. If I don't get my way, I'll make it go my way. Blackmail can get you anywhere. I thrive during the night - dancing on tabletops at Bungalow 8, sipping martinis at the Marquee...it's all part of the opulent lifestyle I live and love.
Oh we’re talking about memories now are we? Okay. Two can play at that game. The girl that calls me cowardly is also the one that nearly cried when she saw her parents. Even pleaded with them not to send her away. You can’t stay in the same place for as long as two minutes because you always fear if you stay around longer you’ll get completely destroyed. But yes, I’m the coward. You caught me. Oh Connecticut, where you went to Jesus camp? Yes I’m sure they’re so useful. They’ll pray your way to the top. You should be thankful, for once you won’t have to sleep your way there. Looks like you’re in good hands!
Thanks for the advice, shrink!
Oh Connecticut, yes. Boarding school, not Jesus camp, like I’ve already said, though I can’t blame you for being nearly deaf. After all, it must be your body’s natural instinct to protect your mind from the psychological and mental damage that must occur from constantly listening to the bullshit you spout yourself. And no, Jesus camp was on Long Island, which, oh right, is mine too. Aw, sweetie. Look, I know you’re so jealous of the fact that I get to travel the world and not stay in Manhattan all the time while you’re a homey homebody, but no need to pull the claws and coward label on me. It’s very unbecoming of a celebutante to be like you.
The people that matter? The people that matter are the one’s who are going to end up in Harvard and Yale. The one’s that live in the Upper East Side. Not the scum from Brooklyn where you’ve found your followers who are all most likely going to end up in jail by time they’re twenty two. Oh this is funny! You think I meant fear as in the kind you can control people with? No dear. I meant the kind that makes people fleet cities the way they did when the black plague was spreading. See you’ve been around the block so many times people figure you have to have some sort of disease. Actually I once heard a rumor you had leprosy. That one made me giggle. That’s not even an STD, they just think you’re dirty.
Oh remember the rumors that went around that you were pregnant with Chuck’s child? Or wait was it Nate’s? Poor little B couldn’t keep her chastity belt on like she thought she could. The whole Constance turned their backs on you and you had yogurt dumped on your hair by…a minion? I thought it was the best joke ever (your demise, but the yogurt too). And you did what - plan to run away to daddy gayest in France to pick grapes all day and get yourself drunk? How sad. But then again, you always were a coward. Oh, please. Brooklyn is mine, yes, but I don’t really consider it anything. Not compared to the other places under my rule - like Connecticut for example? - which, by the way, is not just the home of my boarding school but some of your beloved prestigious universities and its important members.
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Fall? You say that with such certainty. But you should know that a queen never falls and when she does it’s with grace and there are instantly people surrounding her to pick her back up. Why? Fear, of course. Everyone here is scared. They need a leader and that’s what I provide them with and they know that if they aren’t there then, then when I get back at the top which I always do they better run. So fortunately for me, my fate doesn’t rely on secrets. It relies on fear. Which you seem be good at too, seeing as most people fled town when you got here.
Ooooh, you’ve got me scared.
Well, I’m sure there are many other naive girls like you. You may be Constance’s Queen, B, but you sure as hell aren’t Manhattans. You’re the coward here, frankly. You’re so busy attempting to impress the Valium-downing retiring society matrons that you forget I’m the Queen of the people who actually matter and will matter. But then again, practicality wasn’t ever your strength now…was it? Thanks for the compliment, sweetheart. Looks like I’m still the one to instill fear in this town, not you. So much for ruling out of fear now, huh?
Secrets? Don’t have any anymore. Some of us don’t spend our life making so many mistakes until our closet is full of skeletons, G.
Mmmm. Right. Am I supposed to believe that? This is the Upper East Side, sweetie. And we’re nothing without our secrets. One look at your track record will prove that it won’t be long before another dark spot blotches the perfect girl persona you love to pretend you are, and I’ll be right there when it - or should I say you? - fall.
and it’s Gossip Girl letting you know why suddenly the whole city is fleeting. Georgina’s back. Lovely.
Oh, gosh. I’ve missed you oh so much, Beary Blair.
What, too scared I’ll leak all your secrets to Gossip Girl? You know how much I love a good takedown and breakdown.
wait kelly i’m on a different computer so if i’m taking longer than usual it’s because i’m finding gifs to use okay
Yes, clearly you just fucking messaged me. You know, I actually don’t give two shits about you, see, so the fact that I’m even answering this is already enough recognition for you, gray face.
Actually, this isn’t crazy. Clearly you don’t know me. I am crazy.
Surveys are for single moms living in Midtown West in a two bedroom apartment next to a cornerstore.
I also do not take commands.
And do not call me baby. Only a certain CB gets to call me that
Yes, GrayFacedOne, clearly you’re TumblrBot.
Clearly.
Thanks for the love though, I’ll add you to the waiting list perhaps?
