pretty ugly stuff

Here we are, lonely, lumpy, vainglorious members of a society so polluted with misconceptions about beauty. Love yourself as you are. You’re perfect as God made you. Sit here, young thing, and watch this Dove commercial. Bloom from within. Bloom, bloom!

I don't know, but this all smells like a big, buoyant turd to me.

Let me tell you, huge fake tits don't exist 'within the eye of the beholder'. They're found nestled in halters tops, bobbing along the Lakeshore and drinking vodka/sodas at Levack Block. Personally, I don't think pastic is all that appealing - but I bet I can head over to Gretsky's and find a few people who don't share my same position. That's not acumen either, I didn't read it on the back of a Starbucks cup. That, right there, is ice cold common sense. Sure, we can all embrace our stretch marks, but you can't continue to feed your loved ones spoonfuls of clichéd wisdom about that beholder's bloody eye.

You can, however, show them this. Or, if they can't read, this.

There is no one in the world who thinks their body's a perfect body, and I'd challenge any person who says that they do (brrring on the anonymous comments). From where I stand, the myth of perfection is most often bought into by the people who least represent it. If you need a change - get a haircut, start eating bran buds. Don't pump gelatinous viles of Peruvian gang victims into your browline.

I'd like to say we're all beautiful in our own little ways, but I would be lying. The truth? Well, it hurts. It always has. But probably not as much as a cutaneous infection caused by microbactrium avium after an elective abdominoplasty. Not that I'd know.