Open Letter to the Facebook Bikini Girl
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Thank you for posting daily updates on the status of your tummy and thighs before your trip to Mexico on your Facebook page. I know I didn’t comment too much on the status of your diet and fitness levels, but it wasn’t because I didn’t care: I cared too much. It was lovely that you could take the time and share with the world how lovely your body was going to look before the trip and your modesty about your thighs was touching--even when your thighs weren't touching each other.
My entire Facebook experience was even better when you got back from your trip and were able to post several pictures of yourself in a bikini. Truthfully, I looked at the pictures and think you missed your true calling as a Marijuana Bikini Model. I’m sure your husband and kid are proud of you for your truthful ability to keep your thighs from touching. (If I didn’t like small things like eating food and not feeling anorexic, I’m sure I would be the same way. It’s so important in the day-to-day scheme of things to look as if you could be paid to be a professional Marijuana Bikini Model.)
I’m also sure that many of your husband’s friends are impressed with the pictures of you in a bikini, too. And, it’s always nice to be the MILF although Stiffler’s mom was nowhere in your league in body department of course. (She probably didn’t have a good enough personal trainer.)
Don’t let the people who were bothered by your bikini posts get you down. They’re obviously just jealous of your ability to eat less than 1,000 calories a day while keeping to a strict workout routine. It’s too bad you’re not taller or younger or you could easily be a candidate for America’s Next Top Supermodel. (If you notice, the candidates are also extremely impressive in their ability to pose for Facebook shots in bikinis and have an aversion to eating real food.)
In fact, I can hardly wait for your next big adventure so I can hear more about your personal training habits and see more bikini pictures of you. It makes me feel closer to you and also makes me empathize with you more; at least I know that you had to work to get your bikini figure. I hope you don’t mind if I eat some chocolate and drink a bit of red wine the next time we get together—with a delicate figure like yours, I know you can’t indulge or your thighs will touch again.