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They are everywhere. In our TVs on the covers of
our magazines, on the everyday products we buy, and worst of all, in the very schools we
pay serious money to attend. We’ve all seen them. They have infiltrated our buildings and
classrooms. We share the same air with them, and all too frequently, the same dressing
rooms. They are the beautiful 5% of the population who have the fashion sense to match.
Therefore, genetically speaking, they are fashionable freaks of nature.
What makes these individuals freaks is not simply that they are fashionable, nor simply
beautiful. It is the combination of the two that is so deadly. Everyone, male and female
alike, will agree that whenever they see these sultry individuals saunter in their
direction, their knees go weak and their ankles go limp. People literally fall over
themselves, and these freaks of nature do not care. They simply parade by, flipping their
hair, or leveling sexually devastating looks at any poor sap that happens to be standing
in their line of fire.
They have no concern for the average, ugly
citizen, oh no. They seem to glory in our misery – eating disorders and muscle cramps.
They smile serenely at our efforts at weight loss and make-overs, and insist that they
wish they looked as good as the rest of us.
Since these freaks of
nature are in increasing danger of being mutilated to the point that only their dentist
will know who they are, I have laid down a few simple rules to avoid painful blood
letting.
Don’t complain about your “weight
problem.”
If you’re a six-foot tall willowy blonde, or a tanned
well-muscled giant with a piercing gaze, shut up. We don’t want to hear it. The 95% of
the population who are too skinny, too fat, too narrow, too broad, have poor weight
distribution (the butt is frequently the only place the body can put its fat stores),
have no breasts, breasts are too big, or simply have no access to a full length mirror,
have real image problems. There’s nothing more dangerous than a redhead with a perfect
figure complaining to her dumpy best friend that she just can’t lose those last five
pounds.
I have a friend with a gorgeous roommate who constantly
complained that she couldn’t lose her extra weight. My friend eventually cut the girl’s
thick hair to the scalp in an effort to help her roommate lose those last pesky
pounds.
Don’t whine about members of the opposite sex constantly
flirting with you.
You secretly love it; don’t even try to deny it.
The rest of us would give our eyeteeth to be as socially busy as you on the weekends.
Use caution in the mall dressing rooms.
I
don’t know about men, but women are constantly battling posttraumatic stress syndrome due
to the dressing room. More and more women have been taken out of the mall wearing a
straight jacket in the last decade than any previous decade. I swear that it is the work
of a single woman with her own strange vendetta. She’s blonde, with perfect breasts, and
a butt you could bounce a quarter off of. Her tummy is flat, and her legs are long and
perfectly tanned. She tries on a black leather cat suit, which on a normal woman, would
either look like a sausage stuffed to bursting in a shiny casing, or like a spoon dipped
in tar. She levels a smug look at her neighbor in the next mirror.
“Does this make me look fat?” she asks. The neighbor, usually a frumpy housewife with bad
hair and a few extra pounds around her middle, shoots a dirty look at this goddess, and
replies with a curt, “No.”
What happens next is what pushes most
women screaming over the edge.
A herd of about seven children, all of
whom look like the cat suit goddess, stampede into the dressing room and begin to beg for
lunch. Immediately, the goddess’s mirror neighbor begins to foam at the mouth, and drops
to the floor in convulsions. Ten minutes later, an ambulance from the looney bin is
carting off the frumpy woman. She babbles incoherently about bottle bleach and Charlize
Theron.
Don’t flirt with anyone wearing a ring on the ring
finger of their left hand.
This is particularly dangerous to the
Fashionable Freaks. While the person you’re flirting with may enjoy the attention you’re
so mercifully granting them, their spouse does not appreciate it. Nothing will make a
member of the 5% uglier, than a large jealous person rearranging their face.
