Very true, sir. I can disagree with this a little bit, because it clearly looks like either someone asked Ms. Monique to raise that dress a bit, or she did it on her own to show the legs (whether to show the hair or anything else), so it's not like she was walking around with the dress up the entire night... to each their own. BUT I AGREE.
The OP seems very impressed by his own little pop-sociology hyper-analysis. I also wish I would have caught the OP's name before opening said thread.
I don't know about you, but I enjoy Ronny threads. His analysis is spot on usually or at least I think it is.
The story of Ronny begins much like any other story. It is a tale of betrayal, sex, vengeance, and of course, pomposity. The story begins with young Ronny sitting in his basement, full of youthful exuberance, playing with hot wheel cars and eating toasted oats. His mother, a young American woman is a single-parent trying to make ends meet by any means necessary. These means sometimes are not suitable for the younger eyes, but Ronny has grown accustomed to the visits of the strange men known simply as "Uncle John" or "Uncle Barry" or "Uncle Ted Kennedy". One day while walking to school a group of bullies take it upon themselves to confront Ronny about his mother's dubious occupation. They beat up poor Ronny and kick him down and bloody his face and bruise his sides with their ferocious kicks. But these are not felt as harshly as the words pouring from their vile mouths. "Your mother is a filthy w**** who ****s for a buck" they scream at him. Ronny does not back down however, he has a fire inside of him. A fire that will not allow his cause to ever be defeated. He resents the bullies for their insults and the anger burns inside of him. The fire can be seen clearly in the back of his eyes. The humanity in him momentarily ceases to exist. There are no questions of ethics swirling around in his darkened mind at this time. There is only the primal blood lust. With a sudden move he picks himself up off the ground and violently latches his teeth onto an unsuspecting boy's face. The other boys try to get him off, but he will never let go until he has proved his point. The blood gushes out like a geyser of crimson upon Ronny's face as he dislodges a chunk of flesh from the boy's cheek. He is left in the alley with his prize still in his mouth as the bullies run away, now fully aware of the animalistic rage that protrudes from Ronny's twisted psyche. From this moment Ronny assumes a secret identity. He is now out to prove that crime will not go unpunished. He places a mask on his face, it is a mask often associated with Psychiatric practice. It is a mask that defines him by concealing his human features. From this moment forth he must go out into the night. On a crusade. Not to prevent crimes from happening, for he cares not about the victims, only for the blood. The blood that will flow as surely as the day he bite the bully's cheek off. The justification of preying on criminals makes sense in his broken mind. He will not rest until he has rid the world of scum and vermin. His biggest hatred is for the American whores. He cannot stand to look at them as they all remind him of his own dear mother. Slovenly, disgusting with their plump bodies and painted faces. He longs for a woman of understanding and grace, a woman of philosophy and art. A woman he will not find in such a desolate hell hole. The smut peddlers around the corner may hawk pictures of such women, but they cannot truly know what it is like to behold one in all her glory. So Ronny will keep searching, canvassing all through the nighttime. He will not rest until the wicked are punished and the American whores know there place. He will likely never assume his true identity again, for in that moment in the alley that figurine of flesh and bone ceased to exist, and in its place born an idea. A premise that these creatures of filth and sloth must know the consequences which loom with their sordid actions. He puts his mask on and disappears into the darkness, blood will spill tonight.
^^ Walter you mean? Anyway, that picture is nothing, man! I worked at Astroworld during the summers of '83 and '84, and even now, 25 years after the fact, I still have occasional nightmares about some of the things my eyes were forced to endure then. And be glad photos don't also convey smells.
I don't really know, but most women I've met don't shave their legs every day, and when they do shave their legs, I've never seen any of them walking around with an inordinate amount of cuts and band-aids. I don't really care what any individual does with their own body, but her reasons seem a bit silly. It's hard to even call this a women's struggle with the recent "trend" of "manscaping."
Beautifully written, Moes. I only hope I can impart some of my fire to you so you can make something of your analytical ability, keen wit and observational humor. Don't let the past or a cynical attitude force you to live in fear of the unknown. And while I was born in America, I've spent a great deal of my life overseas so I don't think it's fair to peg me as self loathing. I just call it like I see it - and have the benefit of having seen a lot.
LOL at the guy behind her. What a gold digger Girls don't have to shave everyday but that's just ridiculous.
Did a woman start this thread? I guess it is becoming more common for men to partake in petty celebrity gossip. (Oh my goshhhhh she didn't shave her legs! *finger wag*)
I don't disagree that its disgusting, but who would take the time to come and write a book on Clutchfans about it?
A man with a plan to bring Americans out of their superficial funk and into the age of enlightenment with the rest of the modern world.
