Nails, Nails, Nails (sung to "Girls, Girls, Girls")

So as I pulled up to the left turn lane at at 547 & Beach Drive the woman next to me at the light tapped her fingernails against her window. The movement caught me eye, and then I came to a realization that I've always thought inwardly but never ranted about. I hate fingernails. I hate nails that are too long, and by too long I mean past the tip of your finger. A little nail is fine to cover up the stubbiness of fingertips.

Even more than just hating long nails I despise long painted fingernails. I hate the thought of middle-aged women and teenagers going to bacteria-ridden nail parlors to have tips put on their nails. It's only a matter of time before those things start looking crucial. I don't like to see painted fingernails because it's such a stark contract to the skin. It's like --yo, you. look at my bright freaking fingernails--

In opposition to this whole rant, I don't mind painted toes much. I even like to see mine painted. I don't have to explain myself so don't ask me too. This is my blog and I'll hate on whomever I want.