No, No, This is Relevant

I'm not much of a human being. I sit and talk, sit and talk, sit and walk and walk and walk with no where to go. Except to Target to get some running shorts and sunglasses. That way, I can at least fit in here in Tallahassee. Now that summer is in full swing, yoga pants have been tossed aside. Now it's running shorts (could be a location thing). Maybe they got the memo about yoga pants and camel toes. Tired of competing for the best original vagina shadow. The best ass squeezing-spandex bulging out to the side with every step. All a man had to do was imagine the black skin-tight material as, well, skin-colored -- depending on the skin color that he liked best at the time. Doing the world a favor by keeping comfortable, are you? Sexy without being "sexy." Are you the reason why birth control isn't free? Walking behind you gives me a headache, like your wide ass is just slapping me in the head everytime you take a step. Right step -- smack. Left foot -- smack. Smothered by ass-crack like some amateur porno.

Have we gotten so bored with cleavage and mid-drift that we have resorted to the last sacred private area of our bodies? Shorts these days are another story. They are either already cut out to be your father's worst nightmare, or they can be easily adjusted to become so. I can walk into a trendy 21 forever store and buy "appropriate" length shorts (hard to find, however). I can still do that with skirts, as well. However, upon washing and drying, they shrink back down to the size of their $14.99 cousins back from the store. This is a fabric quality issue, but nonetheless, can't a young, semi-modest girl catch a break? I shouldn't have to go into Old Navy and betray my fashion sense by buying Bermuda shorts because I'm forced to shave my bikini line just to be trendy. I don't have time for that shit. I'll shave my crotch when I'm good and ready for the world to see it, not when I'm running to Publix for hot-dog buns in the middle of the summer in Florida. By the end of the summer, I'm back to donating to Plato's Closet all my ass-cleavage bottoms. They take them and give me 5 bucks because some other girl will buy them, and will inevitably look super hot wearing them. YOU"RE WELCOME, girl who competes with other girls for best vagina shadow. This is Florida, not Chile (camel toes are apparently big there).

I digress. Again, ladies, have we gotten so bored with our bodies that we have resorted to the one area that (in my eyes) should remain the last delightful surprise even if it is for that one night stand? I'd like to think that maybe these clothing decisions were a last resort. That maybe she felt silly in her cut-off Abercrombies, was having a bad day, or felt un-pretty and went for the pant that would allow her to slip more easily into the crowd without being noticed.But surely that isn't the reason, and even if it was, the method backfires every time. Surely I'm not the only one that notices the gigantic letters sparkling right over her ass (PINK, COLLEGE, BRAND OF BEER). Surely I'm not the only one to instantaneously fixate on the curves of her thighs leading up to the cavern of space between her legs. The smoothness of the skin against the fabric; the motion of the confident and controlled walk of a woman. The way her back naturally arcs into a soft round hill of muscle that gently rolls back to the point at which the gaze first began: the VAGINA. The small inner dips and crevices of her vagina; her box, her pink vortex, her wilted flower, her pacman, black hole, vice clamp, lady parts, cookie, muffin, apple pie, her poor sweaty suffocating vagina  (I say sweaty because we are in Florida -- everyone sweats, and everyone sweats everywhere). Doesn't sound so sexy any more does it? My bad.

Anyway, I guess that's why my sisters from other misters decided to switch to running shorts. More airy, less intrusive, and overall less hygenic problems. I'm following suit because at least running shorts are more believable than yoga pants. Running shorts allow us to seem like we have an agenda to run, or like we are too lazy to squeeze into our junior sized hot pants we like to call shorts. Yoga pants are a half-ass attempt to look fit, be comfortable, and sexy. However, it still maintains the perception of a sexually desperate single girl vying for attention of sexually estranged boys -- and victory as the hottest vagina on campus. That's admirable.

The yoga pant may be dwindling for now, but they will be back come fall, and I'm sure we all will be waiting for the sexy spandex porn that the seemingly practical pant will provide.I hope I helped to induce excitement in you for this spectacular event in vagina flaunting.