Ever wearing a perfectly comfortable sports bra and pair of Great Dane drool-covered knock off Lulu Lemon likely should have been washed two days ago yoga pants and think to yourself:
SELF: "You know what self? I feel too... I dunno... free in these pants. I feel as if something is missing."
You ponder this for a moment and then eventually come to the realization that what you are lacking is skin tight razor denim thrashing its own path through your ladybits.
How you missed it all along is beyond me, but facts are facts.
You need some seriously skin tight denim in order to feel complete.
SELF: "But, self, even with that, I feel almost claustraphobic. Like my torso just needs to shout to the world 'Look at me, bitches! Look at me in all my glory! Take me in! Desire me!' You understand, right self?"
So you come up with a solution there.
One that requires fishnet. And not JUST fishnet, but MORE fishnet. (imagine Christopher Walken saying it like "cow bell"...)
BUT,
In order to remain out of prison for indecent exposure, you realize you have to subject your torso to a little boob coverage. Just a little. I mean, those ARE AMPLE breasts you have there, Self.
SELF: "At least I can make that shit RAINBOW."
So you're almost there. Your yoga pants be damned. Your properly fitted sports bra? Well now, those are forpussies athletes people with taste pansies.
SELF: "I just... I just need something to really stand out. Like REALLY stand out. Some bling or some such flair! Ooooh... twinkle, twinkle, bitches."
And the shoes? Ah f_ck it, I'll just throw on my flip flops.
Thaaaaaaaaaaaat's the ticket.
___________
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SELF: "You know what self? I feel too... I dunno... free in these pants. I feel as if something is missing."
You ponder this for a moment and then eventually come to the realization that what you are lacking is skin tight razor denim thrashing its own path through your ladybits.
How you missed it all along is beyond me, but facts are facts.
You need some seriously skin tight denim in order to feel complete.
SELF: "But, self, even with that, I feel almost claustraphobic. Like my torso just needs to shout to the world 'Look at me, bitches! Look at me in all my glory! Take me in! Desire me!' You understand, right self?"
So you come up with a solution there.
One that requires fishnet. And not JUST fishnet, but MORE fishnet. (imagine Christopher Walken saying it like "cow bell"...)
BUT,
In order to remain out of prison for indecent exposure, you realize you have to subject your torso to a little boob coverage. Just a little. I mean, those ARE AMPLE breasts you have there, Self.
SELF: "At least I can make that shit RAINBOW."
So you're almost there. Your yoga pants be damned. Your properly fitted sports bra? Well now, those are for
SELF: "I just... I just need something to really stand out. Like REALLY stand out. Some bling or some such flair! Ooooh... twinkle, twinkle, bitches."
And the shoes? Ah f_ck it, I'll just throw on my flip flops.
Do my toes look big in these sandals? (Image via "People of Walmart") |
Thaaaaaaaaaaaat's the ticket.
___________