Monday, April 11, 2011

Caring About your Looks

Before we get started, A QUICK OBSERVATION: Just realized that the word jeweler begins with Jew. Rabbi wanna buy me a diamond ring?

Why caring about your appearance is a Generally Bad Idea
Explanations and advice is broken down by boob group. Choose your chest category to continue: With Boobs or Lacking Chest Mounds.

With Boobs
Being in the “with boobs” category doesn’t automatically mean you subscribe to the cheerful reoccurrence of the red tide(comma) but if you’re a man with boobs you probably aren’t going to get much out of this post(period) I suggest visiting http://howtolosemanboobsnow.org/.


Common Sense tells women that they should match colors, comb their tangled head webs, and wear shoes, but who tells Common Sense to tell them that? Probably a man with too much estrogen pumping through his system and a condom tucked under his wristwatch; an untrustable fellow.

Boobed individuals are taught the following model of reality: To get a man, you need to
  1. Get goods – this can be done genetically or synthetically. Personally I prefer pathetically synthetic but I've always been more of a “path of least resistance” type so don’t accept any blood or advice donated by me.
  2. Show off the goods – since whipping your goods out on the street is unfortunately frowned upon you might as well twist them up and present them in every other way possible (i.e. Dick in a Box). You can cage your breasts in expensive, frilly wire, put your heels on high risers, or grease your lashes with black ash – yeah, that’ll get ‘em hard.
  3. Give out free samples – if you've ever been to a wholesale market you know the best way to get someone to buy the goods is to let them have a taste. Whether it’s breaking off a dollop of milkshake in the yard or encouraging a skinny dip in the goodie jar, there are some elemental ways to show off what you've got without screwing with the periodic table.

I propose getting rid of #2: showing off your goods through expensive displays involving clit glitter or lipstick (same thing!). If you don’t have goods, save the money you currently spend on lingerie, makeup, haircuts, footwear, braids (I assume you have to pay good money to get a good braid these days,) sunglasses, lip balm, udder balm, tithing, sex tip magazines, bags, food that isn’t salad, international calls, therapy, international calls to your therapist, and pregnancy tests. Take that money and “get big” at the gym and then choose your own adventure between getting implants or breast reduction surgery. If you go with an upgrade, start giving out free samples and I guarantee immediate success. No accessorization necessary. If you decide to reduce, go all the way, take testosterone, become a man, and enjoy a simpler life lacking…

Lacking Chest Mounds
So you’ve got nothing going on up top. No, I don’t mean all the way up top – up there with a brain that only takes up half its rented space – but at heart/nipple level. The fact that you’re lacking is fine with me; boobs aren’t everything. For some reason, you were born to be looked at in the face.


Since you don't have speed bags, why should you care what you look like? If you’re a guy you definitely have HPV and if you are a female reading this section you’re flat-chested and have a lot of free time. Either way, why don’t you go out and participate in our economy or something. Get a rake and comb the yard. Steal a kiss and give it to the homeless. Shoot your neighbor as you wish to do to thyself. Hug an armless person. Mug a harmless person. Drive a few miles under the influence of the posted speed limit: sometimes going exactly 25 MPH past an elementary school during school hours can be exhilarating.

How many of the wonderful activities listed above require “proper grooming?” None. That’s short for: Not a fucking ONE! Turns out all the important and fun things in life can be done without giving a rat’s ass about what you look like.

Flat-chested people of the world, unite! Untie your shoes and burn your socks. Life is meant to be lived naked with your toes in the sand. All nudist Spartans out there have it right; sweep your worries into a corner and sprawl out on the empty living room floor, splinters be damned.

I’m sick of our world, all full of materials. Driving down any road in any city in this country I am reminded of our waste size and how good we are at setting a horrific example for whatever species next develops a materialistic society. My money was on leprechauns to be the first to follow our platinum-lined path to hell, but then I decided leprechauns were a myth just like no-panty parties. I stopped wearing panties and got myself and all my friends boob jobs. If you want some samples just send an email to generallybadideas@gmail.com and we’ll come up with something to show you… or maybe we’ll just come into some sample-sized cups.

I think the next species to worry about their looks will be pandas. They are way too into bamboo, and I could see someone coming up with some sweet-ass bamboo panties.

"Is that a bush in your panties or just the tastiest damn branch in history?"  - Panda

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