Friday, April 1, 2011

Cosmopolitan

Recently I was doing the very unenjoyable task of checking out at Wal-mart. The line, of course, was long. I handed Seth my keys and a graham cracker to keep him occupied. I occupied myself with...well, trying to ignore the eyes of a dozen half-naked women surrounding me. The emaciated ones.

One particular blond at my shoulder began whispering, "Look at you: your shabby ponytail, old jeans, mommy figure. What are you doing with your life?"

I started to feel self-conscious. What am I doing? I'm not ---

Wait a minute. "Hey lady, you're standing in an illustrated hot-air balloon advertisement in your underwear trying to seduce this shabby population. And you're being sold for $3. Don't you be trying to give me a reality check."

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