I like Big Butts and I Cannot Lie...lalala

I was perusing the Equinox Class Schedule yesterday and came upon the following:



Brazilian Butt Lift

Class starts with high intensity cardio drills & ends with strength and flexibility exercises designed to sculpt and lift those hard to reach areas. Cancel your plastic surgery appointment and take Leandro Carvalho’s signature class! Voted “Best Bikini Prep Class” by NEW YORK MAGAZINE 2004.



There are so many things going on in that one little description. All of which pissed me off to no end.

First of all, why am I getting an enthusiastic directive to cancel my plastic surgery appointment? I don’t have a standing butt lift procedure in my name, do you?! Is everyone secretly going in to get their asses lifted except for me? Is this why I can’t legitimately bounce a quarter off of my ass? Am I meant to? I thought that was some sort of urban myth. Fucking Brazilians.

Seriously, this is an assault on everyone who shamefully pays out the arse for the “holistic” equinox experience, which is supposed to recall spas, steam and wheatgrass, but really just involves: a) sacrificing your firstborn for a treadmill, b) being forced to watch Mad Money on all the televisions (why Equinox why?) and c) developing deep-seated complexes from the girls in front of you who have been on the elliptical so long they’ve practically finished War and Peace in one sitting.

And let’s get real for a second, what the fuck is a “Bikini Prep Class” anyway? Because I was under the impression that the only way to “prep” for wearing a bikini is to starve and get a fake tan. I’m burning to know which other classes were in the running for these top honours. “Get a Hot Bod Using a Hot Rod 101?” “Cycle Till you Collapse?”, “Cut your Head Off and Lose Those 9 lbs. You've Been Desperately Wanting to Diet away?” I'm a huge fan of New York Magazine, but this is about as embarrassing as those ads for Asian Massages that they shamelessly plug, hoping no one notices that its the newsprint version of pimping.

In short, I don't know if I want to share a gym with girls who find this amusing. I can deal with the naked hair-blow-drying in the locker room and stupid coversations about your hedge fund boyfriend, but this whole "hahah omg I'm going to call Dr. Aston and cancel my combo ass-enhancement/boob-job like pronto!" idea is fucking nauseating.

In the meantime, your schedule can kiss my non-surgically enhanced ass buhbye. I think Sir Mixalot would approve.

Kisses,

Girl