Alright, lemme clear the air: Skinny women are almost always unsexy or less sexy than what they could be. And I give you these reasons three:
1. They're often unhealthy.
2. They're most likely illin' in the literal sense.
3. They're not jiggly.
Now—for whatever horrifying reason—there must've been some underhanded whitey convention in Boulder, CO around 1992, where it was decided quite concretely that all white men would go Pavlov's-dogs for exposed ribs, twiggy-twig legs, and floatational pontoon breasts.
Yuck.
As an artist and a white man, I say, "No, no, no! Not me!" Not only do I reject breast implants to a degree befitting a whole 'nother entry, but I truly despise this seeming "white Hollywood" construct of beauty.
Subcutaneous tissue drawn to nothing, brittle bones barely bearing their weight—oh!—and keep the orange tanner going! Wanna look healthy, y'know!
Ugh.
And who—I ask, who?—got the momentum moving on this tidal wave of thick-shame? Who was the fay hi-fashionista who guilt-tripped soft-minded ladies into losing their soft-cushioned bodies? Because I really wanna slap that man three times these reasons three:
1. You called skinny "sexy" and everything else "fat." *SLAP*
2. You convinced stupid white men we like it like that. *SLAP*
3. You're an asshole for it. *SLAP*
Sorry, my goat's been gotten. But really, look at Manet's Olympia, look at flipping King Magazine... just don't look at Eva Longoria!
The poor thing needs grape pop and ribs.
1. They're often unhealthy.
2. They're most likely illin' in the literal sense.
3. They're not jiggly.
Now—for whatever horrifying reason—there must've been some underhanded whitey convention in Boulder, CO around 1992, where it was decided quite concretely that all white men would go Pavlov's-dogs for exposed ribs, twiggy-twig legs, and floatational pontoon breasts.
Yuck.
As an artist and a white man, I say, "No, no, no! Not me!" Not only do I reject breast implants to a degree befitting a whole 'nother entry, but I truly despise this seeming "white Hollywood" construct of beauty.
Subcutaneous tissue drawn to nothing, brittle bones barely bearing their weight—oh!—and keep the orange tanner going! Wanna look healthy, y'know!
Ugh.
And who—I ask, who?—got the momentum moving on this tidal wave of thick-shame? Who was the fay hi-fashionista who guilt-tripped soft-minded ladies into losing their soft-cushioned bodies? Because I really wanna slap that man three times these reasons three:
1. You called skinny "sexy" and everything else "fat." *SLAP*
2. You convinced stupid white men we like it like that. *SLAP*
3. You're an asshole for it. *SLAP*
Sorry, my goat's been gotten. But really, look at Manet's Olympia, look at flipping King Magazine... just don't look at Eva Longoria!
The poor thing needs grape pop and ribs.
God forbid you jiggle, Eva.
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