Just sit and look at all that make up on her face, her beauty all made up you could even erase it. She says its a phase, that is her justification for this masked prostitution. To this we all applause, copy and panegyrize this absurd copycat fashionista craze.
But don’t you think its too short? Take a peek at her expensive enticing dress. What it reveals is more extensive than it conceals. She cant even squat lest you will see her whole butt, i can attest her mother doesn’t know she raised a slut. But its the twenty first century and it gets her cadbury and candy, so we support and say she looks pretty and hot.
She takes very many tiny tiny fast steps not forgetting to swing her enormous almost plastic hips. They call it cat walk. Where is she going? To poach your husbands not to work, to work it out, the ass i talk about. And we are all satisfied and shout changing times! The beginning of the future! Yet its the departure of end times.
I almost forgot about her cleavage. See! Half her boobies emerge, to please your father, her sponsor. They seem to centrally converge, nipples visible through the priceless numerous vintage denims no one knows who finances their purchase. But then nobody cares for they are exposed and large.
Did i mention her sudden urbanely slang once she sees potential prey? Tongue so sweet and full of allure to seduce our financially stable married men. It even seems hard how she is able to tweng. All a sterile attempt to strengthen her beauty charm. But no one ever minds her contamination for she means no harm. We brand it her swagger.
All these vices we emulate. And we complain yet its we who consciously propagated this downfall of innocence and chastity incautiously replacing them with complacence on immorality. Call it whatever, praise it however you may, all i know its here to stay. Nothing will change, its the money for honey era. The rise of the sponsor epoch.