Wherein I use the word asshat...which totally needs more airplay.

I came home yesterday and decided that a peanut butter and jelly sandwich sounded like a good idea for lunch. Because, pray tell, when ISN’T it? So I made my sandwich and went to plop down on the couch in front of the TV for a wee bit of rest before starting my afternoon activities. And guess what my precious Tivo box had recorded for me? The Victoria’s! Secret! Fashion! Show!

And so I thought to myself “I need new bras...Shall I eat while watching scantily clad women? I think that sounds splendid!” I hit play.

And, OH MY GOD! That bitch, Victoria, TOTALLY ruined my lunch.

Did you know that they found some praying mantis type model things with huge boobs and hair and paraded them around in their unmentionables for an hour? Sweet Jesus! It’s as if those marketing asshats over at CBS were sitting around a table and thinking “WHAT can we air that will make all women hate their thighs and SIMULTANEOUSLY give all men an erection? Anyone? Any ideas? You over there….yes…women?…half naked?...sashaying to music?...making sexy eyes at the camera? GENIUS! We’ll do it…and you get a $100k raise!”

Does anyone else see how unfair this is? Why isn’t there a show, annually, wherein Hugh Jackman, Brad Pitt and George Clooney strut around in their boxers while vacuuming and scrubbing toilets, all while saying witty things and looking into the camera proclaiming “MEN DON’T MIND CELLULITE!” Why isn’t there a women's version of this televised monstrosity? Am I right?

Instead, we get to watch Heidi Klum, who, after three children possesses a stomach that most women will never have post-partum without the help of surgery. She smiles into the camera, winks, and trots off, her tiny, pert, bottom going “Nyah, nyah, nyah!” seemingly immune to the effects of gravity. And then we see someone by the name of Marisa Miller who, while getting ready backstage, bestows this pearl of wisdom: “To calm my nerves before catwalking, I have a donut! Hahahaha!” And then she takes a big chomp out of one. I wanted to throw my sandwich at the TV because you know, YOU KNOW, she has been living on, like, AIR to get that body. And perhaps one shrimp.

(Side bar…she is TOTALLY hot and I covet her boobs. COVET!)

Anyhoo, I spent the better part of an hour cursing the TV, angrily eating my sandwich and hoping that one of the models would trip or fall. Because I'm nice like that. And not at all envious. Let's just say Kylie is getting an extra long walk today and now I can't look at the cookies I made over the weekend without guilt washing over me like a tidal wave and my ass spreading twofold. Fuckers.