From a letter written on March 23, 2026.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I just want to say, "Thanks for giving me life sixteen years ago. It’s really cool." Oh yeah, I also want to say, "Fuck you." That’s right. "Fuck you. Fuck you straight and fuck you sideways."
I know you’re thinking: "Why, in my day, daughters didn’t talk to their parents that way." Well guess what, "Fuck you." You know why?
I, along with thirty other girls in my junior year high school class, am named "Bella." Not because of Grandma. Not because of a dear family friend. Not because of any good reason. Because Mom liked some extra gay vampire book when she was knocked up and Dad was so dickless he didn’t think to say, "Honey, that’s a shitty fucking name for a real life girl." Instead you thought, "We’ll name our child Bella, just like the character from that shitty novel, and she’ll grow up to be worthless and annoying and stupid, just like her namesake: Bella."
And that’s what you, and half the retarded parents on this Earth, decided to name your daughters. Bella. Because of some shittily written romance-horror book by some Mormon lady. I mean, seriously?
Just the other day I was walking to Latin class with my friends LeBron, Hermione, and Obama when we ran into James, Becky, and Bill. James fancies himself a comedian (and he’s super cute) and said, "Look, the basketball player who’s rich, the witch, and the bitch. And another stupid girl named Bella." And everybody laughed, except for the four of us with retarded names from our retarded parents.
Do you know what that’s like? I’m not even close to being partially unique like you thought I’d be. And how did you think naming me after a fictional character was going to be a good idea? Especially when everybody started to do it. Were there millions of Elvises and Ringos and Marilyns running around the playground during Grandpa’s time? How many Yodas and Punky Brewsters and Magic Johnsons did you know growing up? How about Oprahs and Jenna Jamesons and Teen Wolfs?
Then there’s the pressure. Do you know what it feels like to deal with the pressure of living up to your namesake? My friend LeBron sucks at basketball, and he’s white. Hermione isn’t really that smart and can’t do magic. And Obama is just a liar and doesn’t really do anything except make slightly eloquent speeches about what he’ll do when he finally gets his shit together. Okay, so Obama lives up to his name. But all of us have a much harder time.
And for crying out loud… Twilight? You brought a new life into this world, and then you christened me "Bella?" Seriously, I know the medical marijuana trend, Justin Bieber’s popularity, and global warming fucked with the entire planet’s mental capacities, but what the fuck?
Not to mention the irreversible damage Twilight did to the human population. Girls became even more pathetic and annoying, while boys starved themselves and avoided the sun—so they could look like the pussy-faced Edward or Robert Pattinson or whatever his bullshit name was. Do you realize how many young boys died of anorexia and sun deprivation?
Even worse, entire generations grew up thinking vampires were shiny. And werewolves were gay. And vampires were gayer than gay.
So Mom and Dad, I just want you to know my feelings on all of this since you obviously didn’t give a shit when you named me.
Signed, your pissed off daughter,
P.S. That’s right. I’m changing my name to Buffy. Because Bella is a stupid name, Twilight is a shitty book, and you’re retarded parents who should have been sterilized. And yes, I threw away the rest of your old-ass shitty stationery. Fuck you.