I can’t keep up with the latest trends in body image. All I know is at any given time mine seems to be wrong. At this particular moment, it would seem I’m ass-deficient. It’s true. My ass is a mere size 4, giant by Victoria Beckham standards, but in terms of current popular culture I’m clearly sub-par.
I could never be an ass-donor. Kidney? Retina? They’re yours, but alas, where there should be a nice little pad for pinching, I got nada, zip, solid bone. Maybe that was why Santa was never too happy to have me sit on his lap.
Never again will I have to endure the taunts of a certain redhead blogger – you know who you are. No more carting along a cushion to stadium rock concerts. Cold, steel park benches? I’m covered.
Go ahead. Grab my ass. Not only will you not be able to tell, chances are neither will I. I will be known as the woman whose ass is up for grabs! Now there’s a worthy distinction.
Women have been padding, pulling in and pushing up to conform to society's standards since the beginning of time. Will we ever get it right?
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