One last final to go!
Just thought I'd fit in one rant before I get back to studying and finishing a unicorn princess tiara for an out of season Mardi Gras frat party. Anyway, selfies are talked about and made fun of a lot. This issue is neither here nor there for me due to the reams of empty compliments via likes I farm for avante garde and modelling pictures; but when classic selfies come up on my FaceBook, it usually just rubs in the fact that my boobs have never touched by their own volition...ever. Even when I wear super push up bras. I have a 34 A bra that makes them touch but that's not at all impressive. Oh well, world takes all types. At least I don't post selfies in backless dresses or cut-out dresses bragging about how I can wear band aids on my nips and shit's still perky. Anyway, I challenge us to think about why we post selfies in the first place.
Harumph, I can't even imagine having real cleavage. Many girls say it is limiting in the wardrobe department, but imagine the power of 47 likes for a blurry-ass picture of your creased boob-meat and full face of makeup taken on a iMac in your childhood bedroom. The power.