Clobberin’ time

In honor of the forthcoming Fantastic Four movie and the Thing’s trademark line, I would like to rant about a few things that make me wish space radiation had mutated me into a superhuman.
*Vapid Bloggers: Like Toxic Bachelors and Stuck-Up Tunas(these are rich girls with attitude; the name comes from LL Cool J’s “Around the Way Girl), these people surround us and we usually put up with them out of admiration, affection, or plain old martyrdom. Vapid Bloggers blog about superficial things: clothes, exercise, shopping, restaurants, and celebrities. What keeps me from being a Vapid Blogger? Sometimes I write about race, sex, and gender. Sometimes I write about God. I have a Master’s degree in Creative Writing. Plus I spell better.
*Breast Implants: Is it just me or is a C-cup no longer considered a nice rack? My brother loves to watch wrestling(definitely worth a clobbering) and every hood ornament woman on the show has artificially enhanced D’s and E’s. Now as a woman who is prone to carrying anywhere from 5 to 15 extra pounds, I know that breast size is directly related to fat. Yes, kids, breasts are fatty tissue, like love handles and cellulite. If I was anorexic, I probably wouldn’t be as well-endowed. If a woman has no hips, booty, or thighs, yet she has comic-book character torpedoes in front, she has cash or credit to burn.
*Tom Cruise. In the words of Linz Lew, my Team Freedom sister, he is “a shrimp.” I have shellfish allergy.

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