You know the type of women I am talking about. Chances are you have seen some, perhaps even know some. They can be from anywhere, but all have some common traits- two at least- they’re white, and come from a certain socio-economic back ground.
But what else then? What else makes a white trash girl? Well, there is certainly an attitude out there about her. She may also have an attitude. Her clothes come in a few varities; tight and sleazy, short and sleazy, or just plain sleazy. She may be aggressive, she may be submissive, she may be somewhere in between. She generally has a boyfriend (or more than one) who is just as trashy as she is. She’s rough around the edges. She’s been around, or at least her rep would indicate as much. It’s very possible she has one or more of the following: fake nails, fake boobs, a fake tan, or a fake ID. Her gun may be cleaner than her kitchen. She probably has tattoos (multiple), and is more likely to give up a kidney than her cigarettes. She can tell you with grim authority why it is a bad idea to put colors on your shiny new motorcycle jacket when you are not patched in. She knows how to pick up tips, be that as waitress off a diner table or a stripper off a stage at a titty bar-two common professions amid the breed. She’s been in a fight or two (or more) in her day for reasons that range from legit to asinine. She takes her drinking seriously and is probably on a first name basis with Jack, Jim and Jose. It is entirely possible she knows how to bake cookies, cook meth, and bbq meat of all kinds…and if she doesn’t, she knows someone who does. Beer in a can is perfectly acceptable and buying a drink that costs double digits is fucking lunacy! She probably knows some bikers or ex cons- casually, carnally- or both at the same time. She isn’t a vegan and ain’t real trusting of them. She may not know much about international policy, but she does know that when out with her girlfriends for the night, PBR is a sound financial decision. She looks good or at home on the back of a Harley or on the hood of muscle car. She could probably hustle you in pool, and if needs be, hotwire and steal your ride if you failed to pay up. Life has probably kicked her a few times, but she’s landed a few boots of her own. She tends to stick to her own kind and may not be real trusting of those who are different from her. Then again, considering other assumptions, no real reason to wonder why…
People have other assumptions about those kinds of girls too- and none of them are good. They’re all skanks, they’re all stupid, they’re all brain dead breeders. They make crap employees, crap parents, crap students, and crap human beings. If they have kids, they have no real idea of who dad is, and if they do- he’s probably serving time. She probably had sex for the first time at age nine, and most likely it was with someone related to her. She’s dirty, dumb, good for only one thing and only once if one is fine, upstanding citizen. She’s lazy and run and defined by whoever is screwing her at the time. Her main food groups are Ice and Nose Candy. You have to watch out for her brothers or boyfriends not because they give a shit about her, but because they are violent drunk lunatics who like beating people down. She’s part punching bag part sex toy and not much else. She’s got nothing going on for herself except whatever looks she might have, and well, when they are gone what will she be other than a drain on society with a whole passle of screaming illigitimate brats who will grow up to be the same. You can’t trust her, she’s a no good gold digging whore who will rob you blind. She’s ignorant, possibly racist, probably uneducated, and shit, you could probably catch all kinds of things from her. She might have a nice body or a fine ride, but that’s because she lives in some rotten, slovely pit of a hell hole and abuses state aid. Well what do you expect, after all, she’s trash right?
Nah, clue here, she’s a person. Just like anyone else. And why, you might ask, am I bothering with any of this? Because I am one of those women, I came up “one of those girls”. Every single one of those nasty little things has been said or assumed about me at one point in time, and while the top of this expose on the WTG may be damn true in my case- the Other People Assumptions? Nah. And having shit like that thrown at you daily, for years, well- that’s what we call harmful. That’s the stupid, ignorant and abusive right there…not the crew of equally trashy people I might run with, from the dudes with the loud muscle cars and wife beaters to the other inked up gals in the low rise jeans…but that. The idea that a zip code, an accent, a pair of Daisy Dukes, a collar that isn’t white or a back ground that is poor, white and blue defines the whole of what one is. And you know something? WTG’s? We’re some angry, angry bitches and damn straight we’re leery and untrusting of people who “aren’t our kind”. And with reason. We get the honest to god mocking for being who and what we are, and comfortable with that, when rich gals who play at what we are can crawl back up out of it and giggle it off as a night of slumming and no one bats an eye. They’re ‘edgy’ and ‘open minded’ and ‘experimental’ and we’re, well, we’re still trash. They can go home and wash it off. Guess what? The real deal? It doesn’t wash off, nor should it have to, because it’s not dirty. Gritty, yeah, but WTG’s are not filthy. There are plenty of “good girls” who sleep around and party like an 80′s hair band and snort coke like they were a crew of six years olds with pixie sticks- hell, they can actually afford to do that shit- but they are still good girls who get to go home to their big houses and uppercrust lives. Women who can comfortably mock and downgrade those who shop at a Walmart and have never truly worked a day, at anything, in their lives. And yeah, it fucking pisses me off when these assholes dress up as WTG’s for fucking Halloween or to slut it up at a hick bar one night, because wooo…it’s naughty. Fuck that straight to hell. Shoot, until you’ve wandered around in public in a wife beater because the shirt you had on over it is covered in slagged motor oil, blood, or other some other unplesant substance because you had something that needed doing…I don’t freakin’ wanna see you in one. Especially if you are then going to go home after playing at it and still diss on those horrible WTG’s.
And really, one question I have heard WTG’s ask, and have asked it myself, is “Why is it that you think you are so much better than me?”
Have yet to hear a good answer to that one, really. Still waiting for one.
I sort of suspect because a lot of folk who are comfortable making fun of, ripping on, talking about and even fearing WTG’s know that they themselves are probably only a lost job, a divorce, or a tragedy away from us- and gee then, what the fuck will they do because all they’ve ever done is maybe make fun of or play at being us, they’ve never actually been on the field in the game. They don’t know the rules or realize the penalties…and if they should happen to end up in such a horrible spot, you know, here with us? Well, I can say with some authority, many of “us” won’t be cutting too much slack to anyone- after all, we have no reason to like or trust you-and we already know the rules and penalties.
Cheers, WTG’s, Jack and I both Salute you.