I try really hard to be accepting of all people—to find the good in someone before allowing myself to makes judgments based on things I might initially consider offensive, obnoxious, or downright ratchet. As someone who has been described as all those things at least once but probably way more than once, I kind of have to put the judgment aside.
But people like you make it very, very difficult for me to maintain that awesome, nonjudgmental quality of my personality. Which sucks because it’s like, one of the few really great qualities of my personality.
So why are you screwing this up for me?
I mean I get it. You’re a bartender living in Las Vegas. I am too and yeah, sometimes it’s hard being the only one at my place of employment rockin’ her OG titties. Walking with half of what the other, ample-boobied bartenders make. It’s not like I’m not drowning in a sea of awareness of what an asset a nice pair is when you’re working in this industry. I get it.
But can’t you just have a nice pair of fun bags to work and own the hell out of without making that the primary aspect of your being? The main reflection of who you are as a woman? As though you have nothing else to offer the world aside from your magnificent rack?
On Facebook, we have two main photos that, like it or not, give a first impression of what kind of people we are. These two photos—our profile photo and our cover photo—can be seen by anyone who does a quick search for our name.
i.e., These two photos are not limited to just your friends, who can be like, “Sure Karlie’s cover photo makes her come off as a skanky dumb hooker with zero self respect, but whatever. I know her well enough to know she’s actually a really nice person.” No. They are for everyone to see. Everyone including me, who is not your friend, but a friend of a friend who happened to stumble upon your page when I saw a funny comment you posted on our mutual friend’s photo and I was like, “Oh man, this chick seems pretty funny and intelligent. Maybe we could become BFFs one day and have sleepovers where we read joke books to each other and laugh for dayz!” So I clicked on your pic to stalk you a lil bit and WHAMMA!
At first I was like, crap, did I accidentally click a porn link again? A sexy singles in your area ad? NOPE. I did not. That was just one of the two photos you chose to use as a representation of who you are on the most popular social media site to ever exist in the history of the internet.
Now let’s get one thing clear, I have not done the best job in terms of accurately portraying what kind of human being I am on the internet. And even after the rant I just went on about the judgment I have passed upon you, I in no way think I am better than you.
I am simply suggesting that, for the sake of womankind, you change your Facebook cover photo to something a little less stupid than your giant sweater muffins.
I’ve got your back, girl.
Side note: No, I am not jealous of this chick’s awesome tits. If I really, really wanted an awesome pair of tits, I’d buy them. I’ve had men offer to buy them for me. I’ve considered buying them, actually. But then I’d lose my position as Prez. of the IBTC and frankly, I like power.
Another side note: I have absolutely nothing against giant fake tits or the women who choose to flaunt them. In fact, I really enjoy looking at them and if you want to show me yours, I’m all for it.
But it’s just like, be more than your boobs. You know what I mean?