Sunday, 20 April 2014

Almost There

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.

No comments:

Post a Comment