Discovery

Ah, the Disney Princesses.  Delicate.  Dainty.  Marketable.

Okay, I’ll be blunt.  I’d be a terrible Disney Princess.  And there’s a lot of reasons I’m THANKFUL I’m not a Disney Princess.

Glass slippers and petticoats not exactly conducive to moshing.

Could bankrupt at least two kingdoms buying coffee to wake myself up after being kissed by a “prince.”

Have lived in a small house with three guys before, would kill someone if I tried to live with SEVEN.

Crowd surfing discouraged at royal balls.

Could not deal with the idea of my married name being “Ashly Charming.”

Animal friends probably wouldn’t flock to me if I’m singing “I Write Sins, Not Tragedies.”

Am driven crazy enough by my normal grandmother, don’t even want to consider what she’d be like with magic.

Unworthy suitors would not just be rejected, they’d be kicked in the balls and THEN rejected.

Would drive the talking household items crazy by asking them who turned into the toilet.

Wouldn’t commit to a long term relationship based on one kiss, no matter how deep of a sleep it pulled me out of.

AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, I’M THANKFUL I’M NOT A DISNEY PRINCESS BECAUSE:

It’s MUCH more fun to be a pirate: