Wednesday, August 11, 2010
High Life. Ass. Gas.
What else is there to say?
Okay, one thing can be said.
If I were an alien, illegal or outer spacetual, who had just arrived in America and learned about two things and two things only—women and beer—this image would freak my shit out. Because either the women are some kind of race of micro-woman or the beer is F-in huge. The latter, awesome. The former, scary.
Just think, a flock of micro-women, (because what else do you call a group of them?), running around, launching surprise attacks on communities. Demanding mini-muffins and skorts. A dash of white rain and mini leather handbags.
The Midwest would be first to fall.
Barbie clothes would be sold out.
A nation of non-micro women would grow up with the perception that being naked is okay because their Barbies were naked growing up. And in 20 years time the only people to have clothes will be a rebel alliance of the uppity.
These micro-women must be stopped?