Skinny Chicklets

“Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.” – that bitch, Kate Moss

Just for the record, I’m skinny. I weigh eighteen pounds (big for my breed but not FAT). I’m a male dog, a Brussels Griffon, to be exact. Me and the Boss (I call ‘em that ‘cause he’s got the charge card, wheels, tells me when to get out of his chair, and mangles Springsteen in the shower) cruise the fashion blogs now and then to see who’s got it and who don’t. Seems the skinny chicks always have a tough time of it.

First, they can wear damn nearly anything and look good. So what’s the problem? That’s a good thing, right? Well, actually, that’s the problem.

You see you got to have taste as well. That’s why I give short squirts on tired, yellow and green fire hydrants, so yesterday and dull. Nothing like the red ones, trimmed out with a little gold here and there. Oh, I give ‘em a good wash down, too. I just feel better doing it. Back atcha, Kate Moss.

Back to skinny. The problem with skinny women is that they’re always complaining about their lack of curves. Flat ass, flat chest, no waist, toothpick calves… seems they got nothin’ the Boss’s guy friends rant and rave about. The Boss secretly likes skinny… and not so skinny and… well, just about any woman that’s got it goin’ on.

Let me get down and roll in it, as I’m proud to say. Pisses the Boss off sumpthin’ terrible, but if you’re gonna tie one on, might was smell all the way to high heaven: All that skinny chicks have is fashion. That’s why so many model. They can’t be strippers. Wrap a scrap a cloth around a beanpole and tease it off: Believe me, it ain’t magic… you still have a bean pole. The fatter the squirrel, the slower he run. Come on, big fella! Give me a chance to snatch your ass.

The second thing me and the Boss have noticed is that the bar is set pretty high for skinny chicklets. We expect them to pull it off and turn us on. The tasty style, that is. If you’re a size 10 or 12, and no offense to some of my favorite women, the bar isn’t so high. You’re the girl next door, the ones the Boss and his guy friends hang with and mostly marry. These girls can put a good thing together, too… they’re just not Twiggy, hating herself because she doesn’t have an ass like these girls.

I don’t know why I went off on this tirade. Most gurl-folk blogin’ ‘bout fashion are fine but not Kate Moss miniscule. A rare few got the imagination to get them noticed in the design world. That's right, you got the magic. You can come over and put fur on my doghouse any day. I’ll get busy collectin’ a couple of squirrels.

So Me and the Boss cracked open a good Argentinean Shiraz tonight and toasted all the thinlets blogin’ out their skinny brains out tonight while he’s cookin’ dinner and waitin’ for his fine, tall and tan size 10 to come home.

Keep at it. And quit worrying about the curves!

“Boss, is that a little pink I see in those fat, little face cheeks?”