my brain is no longer calcified.
my bones are without joint.
I am rubber.
I slither and shake.
But what of it?
My butt is not flat, for it is too bubbly to comprehend. It is nearly a shelving unit, without nails.
Some butts are flat, some are not. What kind of world do we live in that upholds the right of people without butts? How can this be? We all need a butt.
All this butt talk reminds me of how funny it is to watch men's heads and eyes when females with halfway decent butts walk on by.
For all you women who think men aren't looking at your butt, think again. Men, young and old, check out butts, breasts and anything else that might titillate much more than you ever realize. Usually it's a quick glance, a once-over to check and make sure it's a quality butt for potential fantasy fodder. Usually these fantasies last no more than a few seconds, but they do in fact occur.
It's especially funny if you get some women (or men, whatever the case may be...we don't want to exclude our gay friends) with extremely nice butts and then watch 75% of all guys do the backward glance, the double-take, the stare, the salivate, the lapdog, or the beg. Seriously, it's like watching a tennis match on the street in slow-motion. Most men are pretty discrete about their staring, but unfortunately, some are so blatant, the might as well be grabbing that ass, much to the chagrin of the ladies. And these uncontrollable wanks ruin it for all the rest of us legitimate butt connossieurs, the ones who just like to take a glance or two to make sure we approve and/or fantasize about that butt.
It's a topsy-turvy world we live in. All we want are a few good glances and that's it. You can go on your merry way. We'll just walk a little bit slower and take up the rear.
And that's the way it was, at this moment, deciding to never use "whilst" again in a sentence.
You don't love America as much as Donnie Brasco.