* I Want To Re-Allign My Chakras With Adam Levine: Yo Adam, I used to never think you were as hot as everyone made you out to be because you’re too darn pretty. To me, you were one LL Cool J dead-lift away from completely revoking your man card thanks to baby-soft chin hair and cheekbones better than mine. That is… until I realized you are covered in tats and have all kinds of Yogi-style manscles. Maybe you only date models (who do you think you are, George?), but we can downward dog anytime.
* Food Is Better Left Un-Cooked: The next time I eat cobbler, I demand a direct short-cut to the crumbly stuff on top and the crust. Cookie dough shouldn’t even bother being cooked (isn’t that why we “bake” cookies anyway?), and chocolate batter should come in a Ben & Jerry’s size tub for when you need a spoonful of sugar to make the bitter injustices of the world go down. Chips should always be folded for sturdy dipping, grilled cheese really should just be “girl cheese”, pizza should always be the cheesiest chunk, and peanut butter M&Ms should morph in to one giant size Reese’s egg type of conglomeration so you can get more of the butter and less of the… well, anything else.
* The Bachelor Warps My Views On Romance: If I watched The Bachelor (which I totally don’t), I would tell you I couldn’t be happier that “Live At The Gym” Lowe chose nerdy, subtle-nose-piercing, I-don’t-own-a-flat-iron Catherine as his mate. If I’d seen the final episode (totally embarrassing if I had), I’d admit that even if I do believe sardony should be a font, I totally wept like a baby when he pledged his love… and they rode of on that elephant… (and you know their inner thighs were chafing and their arses hurt)… but it still was totally romantic. That is… if I watched it.
* I Thing Thongs Should Be Outlawed: I know some of us love them. Maybe the fact that I broke my tailbone and bits of my spine when I was 16 falling down an epic flight of stairs in my bikini is to blame for this personal hatred. And by the way, for any men picturing this gentle Baywatch incline bouncing scenario, it is a stark contrast from the violent swimsuit thrashing of reality. It’s about the least sexy thing a woman can do, second to naked coughing (plus I was 16, so ew you perve). That being said: thongs…. why? They are a perma-wedge nightmare that supposedly give you zero panti-lines, but wouldn’t it just be easier to skip the panties all together? And what’s so wrong with wearing underwear? I am not appalled by a man’s boxer and/or brief muffin top, so why are we supposed to pretend our dentless tooshes look this way all the time? Sooner or later the dude is going to see you without your contoured nose or your “only at the outer end” subtle fake lashes or your “Listerine and shaving cream” pedicure… and their are worse things that could happen in this lifetime. So let’s just fly the comfortable pantie flag once and for all and be done with it.
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