Dear old womens who work out and wear cute, hip clothes:
Stop it. Just stop. And not because it’s lame to try and be like us young fresh cutlets. No, because it’s confusing. Gather around the campfire kiddies as I whisper you a tale so horrifying you’ll scream, “this isn’t horrifying at all! Why am I screaming!?”
This morning as I was racing down the street towards some important destination (probably a toilet), I spied with my little eyes a saucy little number jaunting down the sidewalk. The air was as brisk as her flouncy walk. This was a young pup, just bursting with energy. She wore tight skinny jeans, tailored to her shapely legs. Her gray cardigan hugged her curves; she looked like a young sexy librarian from behind.
I rounded the axis by which I could see her face, and lo and behold!
Grandma City.
So ladies, I can’t be objectifying no Grannies. They’ve lived, they deserve respect. Get it together Grammas, and start falling apart. You’re making the rest of us (me) look bad here.
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nickitabanana posted this
