Last night I was watching women's synchronized swimming (who even knew this was a real event) when I was startled awake by the robust thighs of a Canadian diver. Tiny little thing after tiny little thing had jumped off the platform so when a Canuk stepped up to the edge with round hips and slightly jiggly thighs I thought I was dreaming.
I sat straight up, blinked, and blinked again, but no, there she was, Canadian Crazy Thighs as I lived and breathed. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not alleging this girl was fat by any means. I'm sure she's a quite normal and lovely size, but when Olympiad after Olympiad appears to be sculpted out of steel, Crazy Thighs stands out. Way out.
As I've confessed many times, I'm a reluctant, though dedicated, chubbster, but for just a second I judged this girl against all the other perfectly proportioned athletes, crinkling my nose as if the scent of her hamburgler hips Oh-ffended. Then I checked my media-socio-warped mind and admired her for her skill, athleticism, and booty-full bod.
And I was deeply offended when one of the commentators called her splash into the pool a tidal wave. That's like saying a deaf person talks with their hands too much.
I think you can figure out which one I'm talking about.....love her, love her thighs.