I have one! A very large, very round one. I have hated it my entire life. I have tried to "work my butt off," "exercise my butt off," "sweat my butt off," but to no avail. It is still there. I'm pretty sure if I was lost in the woods, died of thirst, and my body was found weeks later they would not use my teeth to identify me. They would just bring my family, roll me over, and..."Yep, that's her. I'd know that badonkadonk anywhere!"
I don't know where it came from. NO one in my family has one. My Mom, all my sisters--they have flat backsides. If you lined us up sideways to take a picture, the camera man would ask me to stand up straight and not stick my but out...but I wouldn't be sticking my butt out--that's just what it does.
At 30 I determined I must: A: afford massive amounts of lypo on my backend, and some sort of newly engineered procedure to remove layers of round muscle tissue, or B: I could learn to accept and embrace my badonkadonk. I chose B.
So why am I telling you this useless information? Oh yeah, I remember now. I am easily distracted. I bought some new shorts for my kids yesterday. In trying them on last night I about fell over laughing when the shorts fit my kid's butt and were miles too big in the waist. I guess my genetic affinity for large round derrieres has been passed on to my poor unsuspecting children. Lucky kids!
....And by the way, keep you eyes to yourself the next time you see me. I've had enough gawking at the junk in my trunk!
2 years ago