Megan Rapinoe is bullying us.
Her insistence on No Thoughts, Just Vibes is almost sinister and almost exactly like life in 1984 or Gilead. Under her eye, bitches.
This Don’t Worry Be Happy lesbian tourist getup is almost tyrannical in its insistence that in the summer you have to wear bright colors and a pair of shades that precisely match your hair. Not all of us can find the perfect pair of sunglasses, Megan.
This one time at January camp, even though we weren’t technically there, we personally witnessed her almost take down four satellites with a tomahawk missile she found in the kit room. (Her aim was off, but it could have been a lot worse. People could have died. Thankfully she and Becky Sauerbrunn had been drinking whisky sours all night while planning the rollout of their harsh new regime, and were absolutely firetrucked by 2pm. Lives were saved that day. Drink irresponsibly, kids.)
We also think it’s almost quite insensitive of her to show off the fact that she has perfect skin. Once again, totally oblivious to her privilege.
Look at all these teammates she has almost bullied. Tears on their pillows, sadness in their eyes.
They say you end up with the face you deserve. This tyrant has spent years pushing for racial justice and LGBTQ+ rights, signing autographs for little kids, leading her team to merciless victories, cheering on other people’s achievements, showing up for her girlfriend, beaming like an idiot and almost nuking entire galaxies. Well, it shows. IT SHOWS, Megan. You might wanna think about that.
Raise your hand if you’ve ever felt personally victimized by Megan Rapinoe.
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