Dear Amateur:

I am new to Dallas, so at first, I didn’t quite understand the significance of the “Halloween costume” you were sporting at the lower school today. I have since learned that the outfit you have on, is likely your high school drill team garb from your stint as a teenage beaver flasher for the Highland Park Belles. I get it, Amateur. Every woman of my generation is painfully aware of the impact that the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders had on American culture. A girl never forgets the first time she sees white lip-riffic cutoffs jammed up a chicks crack paired with a star covered fringe vest and white knee high patent leather boots in the name of sportsmanship and patriotism. I mean, if there is one thing I learned from their appearance on the Love Boat, it was that a woman’s best and highest purpose as an American is to keep that ass tight.

But here’s the problem. My ass was never tight. Even at age 15 when I was rail thin It was kind of like two shapeless pancakes that had been soaked in water and then run over by that one shopping cart with the fucked up wheel. I quickly realized that I could not get into the ass game. If I wanted to serve my country, as all children who lived through the Bicentennial knew they had to, I was going to have to find a different way.

So I moved to the west coast and promptly learned that you could buy an amazing set of tits for ten grand.

Here’s the thing. This is your kids school. I know you want to believe that you are the only young, hot mom in the world who ever shot a baby out of the same twat that you are now trying to show off to underpaid elementary school teachers, children under the age of ten, mothers who actually understand why they are at the school, and a few borderline suicidal dads who couldn’t come up with a reason to get out of showing up here today. But the problem is that we ALSO know that when you first pulled that uniform on last week, you had to use a vice to stretch the crotch part out and accommodate your newly wide set and possibly permanently misshapen junk. So really, no one is impressed.

In short, no one liked you when your shit actually fit into that uniform, and even fewer people like you now. It is not an accomplishment to strut around one day a year on a campus full of people who are there to help their children get to the next level, mistakenly believing that anyone other than you wants to relive her high school days, and then pretend like you are in this to advance your child’s life. High school sucks. In large part, due to people like you who lack self awareness. Stop trying to bring that trash into the lower school.

Or at least nut it up and do what the pros on the west coast do. Start competing head on. Only pussies wait for Halloween. Given the consistently warm weather of SoCal, when my youngest was leaving private school for public high school, I called the new school to ask about the dress code. The assistant principal told me that they didn’t have one. When I asked why, his response was that “typically when we called the parents in to discuss things like short shorts or skimpy tops, the mothers showed up wearing less than the daughters.”

Put up, or shut up.


PS. God Bless America(n plastic surgeons)!

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