The Tipping Point
I was out the other night for good food and conversation. There was the usual bantering back-and-forth and the kind of ribbing you can only do with long-time friends. I was leaning against the wall taking in all their little jokes about this-and-that and about the vest I was wearing, which they thought was “just hysterical“.
Anyway…
The spotlight was on me and I got some nice compliments about my weight loss.
“Hey! You’re looking good.”
“Look at you!”
“Good job!” and then-
“What happened to you? You no longer have an ass.” because that’s what friends are for.
Trust me when I say - in a million years, I never thought I’d hear that one.
This is what I learned over the summer - if you run up and down hills in an effort to exhaust your brain from over-thinking, you will tone and slim your lower half. And if you started out with a D-cup bra and it stayed that way, but your pants size is now half of what it used to be - Houston, we have a problem.
I’m tipping over.
This is not how I thought things were going to go. When you lose twenty pounds or so, shouldn’t some of it come off the top? I guess while the lower half of my body was getting itself into marathon condition the upper half just rode along.
Who knew?
And I can hear it now - What’s she complaining about? The nerve! She should be happy she lost some weight and has naturally large boomba‘s. What I’m complaining about is looking like a pre-pubescent boy sporting D cups and yeah, I’d be happy if I wasn’t constantly FALLING OVER!
I’ve discovered how celebrities can be a size negative zero with huge fake boomba's - it’s because they have “their people” to hold them up like marionettes. They’re string puppets with concealed wires and scotch tape and whatever else they use. Just how do you think they get away with wearing high heels? Heels that are already tipping you forward? Smoke and mirrors I tell you.
I just want some uniformity and not look like I’m rated R or some famous country singer that has her own theme park and I fear that small children will not be allowed around me because I’m indecent.
Gasp.
I’d done a little research and it turns out there’s a remedy for this kind of condition. You simply strap yourself into a specially designed vest, secure the ties and attach yourself to a large velcro board. Tada, you're upright! And if you’re lucky, you’ll find someone to wheel you and your high heels around so your friends can make fun of you.
Anyway…
The spotlight was on me and I got some nice compliments about my weight loss.
“Hey! You’re looking good.”
“Look at you!”
“Good job!” and then-
“What happened to you? You no longer have an ass.” because that’s what friends are for.
Trust me when I say - in a million years, I never thought I’d hear that one.
This is what I learned over the summer - if you run up and down hills in an effort to exhaust your brain from over-thinking, you will tone and slim your lower half. And if you started out with a D-cup bra and it stayed that way, but your pants size is now half of what it used to be - Houston, we have a problem.
I’m tipping over.
This is not how I thought things were going to go. When you lose twenty pounds or so, shouldn’t some of it come off the top? I guess while the lower half of my body was getting itself into marathon condition the upper half just rode along.
Who knew?
And I can hear it now - What’s she complaining about? The nerve! She should be happy she lost some weight and has naturally large boomba‘s. What I’m complaining about is looking like a pre-pubescent boy sporting D cups and yeah, I’d be happy if I wasn’t constantly FALLING OVER!
I’ve discovered how celebrities can be a size negative zero with huge fake boomba's - it’s because they have “their people” to hold them up like marionettes. They’re string puppets with concealed wires and scotch tape and whatever else they use. Just how do you think they get away with wearing high heels? Heels that are already tipping you forward? Smoke and mirrors I tell you.
I just want some uniformity and not look like I’m rated R or some famous country singer that has her own theme park and I fear that small children will not be allowed around me because I’m indecent.
Gasp.
I’d done a little research and it turns out there’s a remedy for this kind of condition. You simply strap yourself into a specially designed vest, secure the ties and attach yourself to a large velcro board. Tada, you're upright! And if you’re lucky, you’ll find someone to wheel you and your high heels around so your friends can make fun of you.
Comments
I am a pear...I'd trade ya!