Cruising around Ann Taylor LOFT this evening (fancy), I was kind of down and feeling crappy about myself. You see, I was trying to get to the Gap to find myself a larger pair of jeans because apparently all my old pairs have shrunk in the wash. Not a fun shopping trip. Plus, I was feeling old, tired, broke, annoyed, I could go on, but who has the time to read about incessant complaining, really. Alas, stupid Gap is "Closed for Renovations," so I stopped into the LOFT to look around and that proved to be fruitless as well.
Near the sunglasses spinner, I noticed a woman with her back to me. What leaped out first was her hair. She had a gorgeous, thick, blonde, shiny ponytail of hair like a thoroughbred. Her legs, long and lean, like a thoroughbred. She also moved about the store with the grace of a thoroughbred. I returned my gaze to the sunglasses on the spinner while I wallowed self-pity about my stringy fine hair, my short infirm legs, and my hunched over stance, when suddenly, she turned around, and I got a look at her teeth and face. They were, like the rest of her, exactly like a thoroughbred.
Yikers!
Bliccky Bliccky Doo Doo!
Sorry for bitching, Mother Nature. I'll keep what I've got, thanks, it's just fine!
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