a letter to my ass

A letter to my Ass

(My ass will be referred to as Sugar because she loves it so much and I cannot seriously write a letter to ?bottom? so I am required to give her a name)

Dear Sugar,

I know that it has been a while since I have seen you. I wish that I had a proper excuse for my lack of attendance such as a hectic work schedule, academic stress, or a bad breakup?but the truth is that I have been ignoring you on purpose. Because our relationship has been so up and down the past few years, I feel there are some things I should share in hopes that we can feel much closer.
I know that we spend a great deal of time together. We have had some GREAT times! Do you remember when we were out clubbing in Exeter at that Arena place and you got grabbed by that jackass and I jumped in to defend you with a glare and a ?do that again and I guarantee that you won?t ever have children!? We have had some laughs. Despite all the good memories, though, it seems like we do not see eye to eye lately.

People say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder?and let me tell you, I see nothing wrong with a size 8. However, if we are going to continue sharing clothes like we have been doing ever since I can remember, I prefer to remain a straight size 6. Your complete disregard for my opinion on this matter really bothers me.
I like thongs. I like the way they stay where they are put because it is virtually impossible for them to go anywhere else. I like the way they look under my clothes because they don?t. I like the way that my boyfriend drools every time I change my trousers. I know you like thongs for the exact same reasons. One thing I do not understand, however, are the little lumps of flesh that are starting to hang out right above the thong strings on either side of your back. They are by no means out of control or even that noticeable under nicely fitted clothing (see above paragraph)?but when you change in the dressing room I can see them plain as day under that tell-all fluorescent lighting. I do not know if you just haven?t noticed that they are there or what, but as your friend I am telling you that they need to go. If you would pay attention and maybe work a bit harder during our exercise sessions, maybe that would help.
Gravity is a subtle but awesome force. We take it for granted?everyday it helps us stay on the ground, walk normally, and do other things like breathe. It also tends to slowly drag things that look good perky downward. Every bit of flesh sags with time and to see the workings of nature is a beautiful thing. One thing that is not so beautiful is the phenomenon that I will refer to as ?premature saggage.? My breasts for example, being only 20 years old and a frugal B cup, are resisting the saggage complex with the vigor of a 17 year-old-boy pursuing a drunken college freshman. So far, unlike the 17 year-old-boy, the battle bas been largly successfull. You, unfortunately, are beginning to show symptoms of this dreadful plague. If I were you, I would do some extra lifts and clenches to fight this upward battle before the problem gets any worse. This may sound selfish, but if we are going to go out together as good friends do, then I want you to be able to look good.
Now that I have gotten these things off my chest, I want to remind you that although my criticism sounds harsh, I am merely trying to help a friend that I care very much about. I am simply being truthful. These issues have gone undisclosed for far to long. I love you as much as I love the rest of myself. You make me laugh, will always be there fore me, and you know me like no one else. But you have to start pulling your weight in this relationship. After all, a good friendship takes work.