Don’t Take Barbie To The Gym
Do you know what happens when you let your children in exercise class at the YMCA? They take over. They bring Freakin’ Barbie and her plastic cronies. Barbie and her superficial doll friends TAKE OVER and start acting like they OWN the place. And they are ALWAYS so enthusiastic about doing leg squats no matter how binding or inappropriate their form-fitting attire is. Is it advisable to wear a cotillion dress to the gym? Of course! There is a constant white teethy smile on their faces while lunging. While you grimace doing push-ups, Barbie and her cohorts mock you with their unblinking stares. They manage to keep their stamped pink lipstick from smearing regardless of how much cardio they’ve done. Barbie’s unnatural friends don’t break a sweat doing thirty sit-ups or grimace one bit doing forty fire hydrants. It’s not normal. They stand there, flawlessly proportioned. Even their faces are chiseled to perfection. There is no female arm jiggle. How is that possible? I’ve known skeletal women who have arm waddle, but not fucking Barbie. I want cankle Barbie, dammit. Barbie with alarmingly large feet, whose bunions prevent wearing pointy plastic shoes. Muffin Top Barbie can kick “10 yr. old boy fanny” Barbie’s ass all over the gym. Alopecia Barbie with thin hair like mine. Why don’t they manufacture sensible clothes for Barbie, like hoodies or harem pants? It’s always fussy poolside attire with Barbie and her fake gang.
And then I’m reminded about why I like to go to the gym: to look more like Barbie. At least I can bend my arms.