I was at the superstore Target today, buying jeans today for my younger son. This morning at 5:30, he threw on his pants in splendid fashion, and just as he was about to walk out the door we noticed the rip in the rear end of his pants. It frankly didn’t look ripped — it seemed as if demon lizards crawled out his butt and used claws and teeth to escape his foul odors, or that a Mad Ass Barber (hyphenate that however you like) went after the seat of his jeans with a pair of scissors.
I’m going to start today’s post with a photograph. Prepare to be disturbed. You might want to ask children and small furry animals to leave the room.
If you are anything like me (and I am not assuming anybody is anything like me), your first reaction was to laugh at the ludicrous poses, and secondly to kind of shiver and shake your head. I saw this on Facebook, followed by hundreds of comments from women who essentially said “Gross!” or something similar. Yeah. Gross, isn’t it? The picture is at the most offensive , and at its least, disturbing. Continue reading Handmaiden, Whore, Madonna, Crone