Last night we decided to risk the weakening Hurricane Earl to hang out with our good friends who run a Karaoke business. It was a tame night, the hurricane was reduced to a “hurricane” and things were a bit slow at first since any storm will keep Rhode Islanders at bay. When you go to a karaoke party there are so many different types of people: those who can sing, those who can’t, those who think they can, and those who think they are on tour.
It was the latter type that caught the attention of my friends. She was holding the mic like she taught Bon Jovi a thing or two while wailing her “Here for the Party” as if the bar with about 35 people in it was actually a stadium filled to capacity with people who spent $250 a ticket to see her. We were just chucking at her sold out performance when Donna saw it first.
The woman turned to face us and we were blinded by the worst case of camel toe we’ve ever seen. It looked like her huge vagina was split in half by jeans that were so horrendously tight that when she walked she must be getting some kind of bruise. I audibly gasped in horror but luckily you couldn’t hear it over “Gretchen Wilson” up there going to town completely oblivious to our frantic search for eye bleach!
Is it possible to own jeans that are so tight that they need to seek refuge inside your vagina? Wouldn’t you be able to feel that you have camel toe and do something about it? Ladies, please, if you aren’t a swimmer in a competition or a rower or even potentially a cyclist let’s make sure we aren’t suffocating our ladybits and showcasing it to the world.
Is that so much to ask? Apparently…