This is gonna sound crazy as shit coming from me, but as I started reading about this Canadian fitness coach named Mel Cech that once had some pretty fat tits and was otherwise pretty ok looking for a white chick, then went way hard on the exercise effectively erasing said big boobs, I thought the bitch might have gone a little too fucking far!
And the reason that’s specifically crazy for me to say is that I think that just about everything can be cured with a little exercise.
Get on the treadmill.
Do some push-ups.
But if I’ve got to give feminism one more caveat – and trust me, coming off the first and agreeing that equal pay for equal work only makes sense was painful enough – then I’ll also agree that women, as much as men, as much as anybody, should be entitled to aspire to the body that they desire.
In other words, just because I liked Mel with her giant tits, doesn’t mean that she liked herself or should have.
But this is the type of shit you hear all the time.
You see some hot chick working out and some nigga will walk up and whisper to her, “Don’t lose that ass” oblivious to the possibility that the reason she’s working out just so is precisely to do just that.
This is a unique arrogance that men feel.
I was just arguing this morning before I left the gym that although I had no problem with female sports reporters, I needed them hoes to look good and wear tight skirts or it would fuck up my appreciation of their authority of the game in question.
Sure bitch, Steph Curry may be the 2nd best point guard ever after Magic but how am I supposed to respect you if I can’t see no kinda outline of them titties?
And I reserve might right to be a pig, I just understand that it’s wrong now, I think.
Believe it or not, I’m only now coming around to the idea that what woman desires for herself may have nothing to do with the male gaze and may in fact be contrary to it.
But one of the things that women interested in the male gaze could learn from men, particularly men that wear open-collared golf shirts over beer bellies, sandals with socks, cargo shorts and all the inappropriate “don’ts” of etiquette and good taste is that those muhfuccas still find themselves sexy anyhow!
And that’s what translates.
Like in American Hustle, when Christian Bale’s character meets Amy Adams’ character, she notes that there’s nothing sexy about the dude but his attitude.
And she ends up becoming his mistress.
And yes, like I’ve said, my personal taste does run a little heavier too.
I mean, I like a smaller waist, but I’ll take them huge everywhere else.
So while, in theory, I’d be more attracted to Cherokee D’ Ass (top right) than Mel Cech (top left) because I like Cherokee’s body more – and, of course, you know, Cherokee’s Black – if Mel Cech had That Strut – you know that strut that women affect that makes them look like they just knocked a muhfucca out, robbed a bank and caught a sale? – she may bring it to a push or even take the lead.
Not that she’d give a fuck.
She’s a lesbian.