Our team has been working on a new marketing campaign that’s big on personality. I can’t wait until the grand reveal. Until then, I’m not at liberty to disclose details, but I will give you a hint: In last week’s marketing meeting the word “butt” came up at least 50 times.
As someone with an ample amount of junk in my trunk, I consider myself a bit of an authority on the subject. Sometimes I joke that I maintain a healthy-sized backside so more people can kiss it. Call it what you will — booty, bon bons, badonkadonk, or buns–there’s no denying that I got back. In fact, I only trust people who like big butts. Why? Because they can not lie.
I suppose it’s just another way of looking at the world. People can be divided into those who appreciate a gluteus with a whole lot of maximus and those who prefer a petite derriere. Lucky for me, I’m married to a guy who agrees that fat bottomed girls make the rockin’ world go ’round. If I weren’t, I imagine it would probably be like this:
Ted and his wife are working in their garden one day when Ted looks over at his wife and says: “Your butt is getting really big, I mean really big! I bet your butt is bigger than the barbecue.” With that he proceeds to get a measuring tape and measure the grill. Then, he heads over to where his wife is working and measures her bottom.
“I was right! Your butt is two inches wider than the barbecue!!”
The wife chooses to ignore her husband. Later that night in bed, Ted is feeling a little frisky. He makes a few advances towards his wife who completely brushes him off.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
She answers: “Do you really think I’m going to fire up this big-a$$ grill for one little weenie?”
Happy Monday,
Mary
