Can We Please Take A Moment To Discuss What’s On Rebecca Martinson’s Head In Her Second Grade Yearbook Photo?

Here at the BroBible headquarters, we do our absolute best to shatter the confidence and self-worth of our fellow colleagues–exposing their most fragile insecurities in a not-so-subtle attempt to regain blogging dominance over one another.

Rebecca Martinson, a sole girl employee and youngest of the bunch, is far from immune from the verbal assaults. She has gone on record numerous times calling me ‘fat,’ (6’2”, 208 pounds of former athletic mediocrity), taken shots at my porous skin, and scoffed at my never-ending attempt to find love and fulfillment on Tinder. Some chicks just want to watch the world burn, and in that event, Rebecca will be roasting marshmallows on the flames.

It’s hard to understand the complexes nuances of the ‘deranged sorority girl’ who was made internet famous in 2013 after penning a letter to her sorority at U Maryland demanding they start putting dicks in their mouths to bolster their social currency. But in order to get a better understanding of what makes Rebecca so fucked up, it’s best to examine her roots.

And her second grade yearbook photo from 2000 sheds some light on whats become of her. Ladies and gentleman, I introduce you to: A Child Called It.

Holy shit. There are bad haircuts and then there are haircuts that look like they were given by Helen Keller using a swiss army knife while riding a mechanical bull. The fact that her parents let her out in public with that abortion of a haircut–nevermind for picture day–is grounds to inform Child Protective Services. And she’s smiling, like she couldn’t be more satisfied sporting a dead parakeet on her head. God damnit, I bet O’Doyle had a field day with her. Rebecca Glansberg.

Supercuts–not even once.

Fast forward 15 years, it’s apparent that old habits die hard. Her hair is currently dyed purple and she’s shaved a line in her head for every time she was stuffed in a locker as a kid.

Matt Keohan Avatar
Matt’s love of writing was born during a sixth grade assembly when it was announced that his essay titled “Why Drugs Are Bad” had taken first prize in D.A.R.E.’s grade-wide contest. The anti-drug people gave him a $50 savings bond for his brave contribution to crime-fighting, and upon the bond’s maturity 10 years later, he used it to buy his very first bag of marijuana.