Miss New Booty

Ever since about the late 90s, I’ve been lamenting about how not-cute my butt looked- naked or in jeans. I don’t have that supposed, typical hour-glass figure for which my people are known. Even at my thinnest, the only curves I possessed were up top.

Recently, however, I’ve noticed a strange phenomenon happening in my booty region- a roundness never before seen on this body; enough to make me try on tight jeans JUST to look at my reflection in the mirror.



I should be ecstatic, right? I got my wish, right? WRONG again, Col. Sanders. See, this new gluteus maximus brought with it an equally sizable abdominal ginormous.

My idea of having a “fit” body is simple: my thighs shouldn’t meet in the middle and my breasts should be more pronounced than my stomach. At a whopping 192.6 pounds, my thighs have become kissing cousins and, well, let’s just say it’s a photo finish as to whom is winning the race between Señor Belly and Las Tetas. Pure sadness.

How I let myself get this way is besides the point because it’s not like it is New Math or anything: I don’t exercise + I eat a lot of junk = Fatty McFat-Ass Penzo. The End.

But you know it's bad when my ponk-ass landlord calls me fat. YES. HE. DID. Child, if it's noticeable, something needs to be done post haste. And well, in the meantime I will just stare at my booty in the mirror before it leaves me once again

Don't be surprised if, when you see me out, I'm only eating carrots, celery and lettuce *stank face*

*smooches...contemplating a Minaj-like surgical procedure
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shooo, my aunt got one in DR; why can't I?!?!