I'm Not Searching, Just Looking.

Remember when you saw those cute pair of heels, that sparkly dress, and you HAD to so try it on? You walk into the store, and the stuck-up bitch behind the counter wouldn't give you time of day. *Besides, her hair sucks. AND her shirt is too TIGHT for her. Plus, her butt STICKS OUT. so there.*

So you give her a mental finger, walk over, grab your desired, head to the dressing room.

It doesn't disappoint.

If Glam could see you now, you'll be in her definition.

Your curves meld into the sequins like supple cream, assets without being trashy, accentutating those see-ables, ironing out the kinks, dispelling rolls.

Simply fabulous.

And then you walk out, and the dress goes back on the coat rack.

Why??? Why in the dumb fark world will you do that?? Did a pitbull manage to sneak into that big ass ear hole of yours and chase it's tail in the cavity supposed to hold your brain? OMG, did someone shove something thick and hard and bullet-ready up any crevice available in your fat dumbo doughnut tire appendage you call a body?

Are you sick?
Are you broke?
Here here, take my credit card!!
Oh shit... you're dying aren't you? What is it? Cancer? AIDS? Malaria?
why? Why? WHy? WHY????? WHY??????



>
>>
>>>
>>>>



Lemme think ......................................................................

bECAUSE....


I'm not searching. Just looking.

So there.