#parody

I'm parodied as being some right-wing fundamentalist extremist, it just isn't true. The parody doesn't reflect reality. ↗

— Pat Robertson

#extremist #fundamentalist #i #just #parody

There is something immensely scary about putting yourself out there for people to love or hate you, fan or pan you, review or screw you. ↗

— L.V. Lewis

#contemporary-romance #erotic-romance #interracial-romance #parody #love

I took the one letter he had for us. It was from the Switchblade Gas & Electric Company. I didn't know I had admirers there too, but I wasn't that surprised. I threw it in the trash with the IRS's love letters and closed the door without reply. ↗

— The Harvard Lampoon

#parody #humor

He was muscular, like a man who could pin you up against the wall as easily as a poster, yet lean, like a man who would rather cradle you in his arms. He had reddish, blonde-brown hair that was groomed heterosexually. He looked older than the other boys in the room—maybe not as old as God or my father, but certainly a viable replacement. Imagine if you took every woman’s idea of a hot guy and averaged it out into one man. This was that man. ↗

— Harvard Lampoon

#nightlight #parody #twilight #imagination

Alice is fictional. This isn't. ↗

— Jess C. Scott

#dark-humor #group-think #groupthink #lady-gaga #mad-magazine

No,” said the figure. “You seriously don’t recognize me?” I looked at him closely: the pale face, the cape, the red eyes, the ridiculously large fangs. I couldn’t place him. “Um, do I know you from work?” I strained to remember if he was one of my co-workers. I strained to remember if I had a job. “Goodness gravy, Belle—I sit next to you everyday in English!” “I’m sorry—every face at school kind of blends into one conglomerate dull face except for the face of Edwart Mullen, the love of my life. ↗

— Harvard Lampoon

#nightlight #parody #twilight #life

It is old age, rather than death, that is to be contrasted with life. Old age is life's parody, whereas death transforms life into a destiny: in a way it preserves it by giving it the absolute dimension. Death does away with time. ↗

— Simone de Beauvoir

#age #away #contrasted #death #destiny

Oh, and it’s also Reaming Day, the day where the kids between the ages of twelve to eighteen are chosen to participate in the Hunger But Mainly DeathGames, which, as you might expect from the name, is a tournament in which kidsfight to the death, and occasionally experience hunger. ↗

— Authors of Nightlight

#parody #age

Then I had another one of my well-researched epiphanies. His constant use of Purell, his love of video games, his lack of friends, planet gazing, and flail-run. “You’re a zombie,” I gasped. “No. I’m not,” he said. I went back to the vampire theory. ↗

— Harvard Lampoon

#nightlight #parody #twilight #vampires #zombies

We trekked onwards until the road came to an abrupt stop in the middle of a field. A car rambled up, stopped, and made a twelve-point turn. I skipped to the middle of the field and continued skipping around and around. Never had I felt freer. Never had I belted The Sound of Music louder. It was beautiful. There were glorious weeds everywhere, and those yellow flowers that when you blow on them disappear into white flakes. It was magical. And yet, it looked strangely familiar. “Is this my backyard?” I asked. Edwart stood, leaning against a tree in the woods bordering the meadow. “No, Belle. We’re at least five minutes from your house. ↗

— Harvard Lampoon

#nightlight #parody #twilight #beauty