Cover Up

Hey, you, two blondes at the Lenexa barbecue contest. You know the ones, wearing the brown bikini tops with the gold beads around your neck, holding a can of Bud Light in one hand and a cigarette in the other, walking around while every overweight, still-living-in-my-glory-days-at-the-frat-house, cargo-shorts-wearing guy is staring at you. Did you not realize it was a family event? Or is that why you had on cut-off jeans shorts so short, your ass cheeks were hanging out? You didn’t even bother buttoning them up. What’s the point of even wearing shorts? Were you trying to look like whores? Guess what? YOU DID. Next time, you could at least wait until the sun sets before traipsing around in those outfits. Or better yet, save it for Party Cove or a Motley Crue reunion tour.

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