It's raining men...

... thank dog that I live in a city with a very large sewer system because most of them need to be washed away like yesterdays dirt. It's getting nearly ridiculous and maybe it's just because I've never received this many compliments before, as slanted as they are, regarding my looks. It's all about the booty... and I've got a big one!

Rest assured though: THE BOOTY IS BACK! Just recently a supermodel died during plastic surgery. Surprise, right? Well, she was getting... get this... ASS IMPLANTS! BITCH WANTED A BOOTY! It was POETIC JUSTICE! She should have eaten a cheeseburger, a taco, drank a beer... she's have had that booty in no time and still be alive. You can check out the story here: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/worldnews/article-1232381/Solange-Magnano-Miss-Argentina-dies-buttock-implants-operation.html

I recently read something in one of those magazines, Glamour, or Cosmo or something that said that as men get older, into their early to mid thirties, they begin naturally seeking women with larger (within reason of course) hips. As mens biological clocks begin ticking, they seek a woman with whom they can use as a baby factory. Well, what comes with hips? BOOTY! Kanye West knows what I'm talking about... according to him (and Jay-Z on the Blueprint 3 album), I'm the perfect woman: "She got an ass that could swallow up a g-string and on top, uh, two bee stings."

But what is the true attraction? I mean, the comments are getting more bold! Just yesterday, as I was leaving my apartment building to go meet a friend for dinner, I was wearing boots, jeans, and was completely bundled up. It's true, I might have had a little hop in my step but I was on a major endorphine high after doing nearly an hour and half of total kick ass cardio. There are approximately 5 bus stops within a block of my apartment. They litter the corners like trashcans, every 15 feet another little blue and white sign gives permission for people to huddle together against the elements and for one thing: to harrass those of us who drive our own vehicles! They beg for money, cigarettes and SEX! Yes, even SEX! "Let me get on that!" I hear it all the time. Guess what buddy, you're not getting anywhere near THIS! My personal favorite: "Now THAT'S what I'm talking about! Wooooo wweeee! I wanna take a chunk outta that!"

Really sir, please do not use the word CHUNK when referring to my ass. Oh well, I gave him a little extra hip sway and bounce as I continued walking towards to my car. I never even looked at him, but I knew he was looking at me. Why shouldn't I bring joy to this world one jiggly butt cheek at a time? I just use what genetics gave me... sometimes I feel so blessed.

As I said before, the compliments, however sideways, are flattering nonetheless. But there are times when I just don't understand it. The other morning, I had woken and gone through my typical routine of applying for jobs online, drinking my cup of tea and watching an episode of Law and Order: SVU while eating my breakfast. I threw on a sportsbra, old stained t-shirt, tennis shoes and shoved my hair back into a ponytail. I skipped brushing my teeth and washing my face as I was only going down to the 2nd floor and was planning on sweating my ass off when I got there. iPod on: She Wants Revenge bursting it's beat from the ear buds and I'm waiting on the elevator. "I smell like soy sauce from work last night. Ick." I think to myself as I'm waiting on the doors to open.

As they open, one of my "neighbors" is also in the elevator going down. I don't know him. I've never seen him. It's a 16 story highrise. As I enter the elevator, I see his eyes look me up and down, never even nearing my face. Slowly scanning me from tits to knees as if this were an airport and he were a TSA agent looking for contraband or explosive devices. I heard him say something but didn't have any idea what it was. I popped out an earphone to hear him ask me again if I was going downstairs to work out. "Yep!" Nice observation buddy! You're a bright one! "I'm Mike." he says without extending his hands; afterall, they were full of recycle bags for the grocery store. "I'm Steph." I replied. "Gonna work out that body, huh? Looks good." he said, slowly licking his lips. REALLY? Thank dog for cameras in the elevators because I'm pretty sure that he would have mounted my leg if given the opportunity! The elevator doors opened and I quickly exited and nearly jogged into the hallway and around the corner. I could feel his eyes burning holes into my butt. And as I continued my workout, I did so smiling, slightly flattered by the compliment, as creepy as it was, from a total stranger.

Even when I'm at work, my butt works with me or against me. The other night, while trying to squeeze past a Chef and their food cart, the Chef wasn't paying attention and ran a huge line of butter across my ass. Talk about buttering the buns! I've been asked by more than one Chef if they can bump into me... from behind. And my personal favorite was hearing, "Um, Steph, all your good stuff is in the way. I need to get around you." REALLY?! It's not a damn continental divide! It doesn't need a map to be navigated!

The War in My-butt-is-tan, Buttageddon, or whatever you want to call it will continue to be a regular part of my blog as it is a regular part of my body (pun intended) and even more regular part of my day.