jennifer lopez

An Open Letter To J.Lo

Kimberly's picture

Dear J.Lo,

We are about the same age, you and I. You are a little above forty and I am slightly under it. We both look very young for our age and can be considered to have hot bodies. Nevertheless, even if I had the opportunity to go onstage and proffer my thinly-sheathed vulva for the world to see, I wouldn't. The difference between us is not a level of prudery as my happy husband will attest. The matter lies entirely in the nature of the impact I wish to have during my finite time on this planet.

Lest you think I'm singling you out, you are one of a crew of vulva-thrusting matrons: Madonna, Beyonce, Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, et. al. The aforementioned women may or may not be your friends, however, you have a great deal in common with them. You are all mothers. You have all had at least one form of plastic surgery. You are all apparently concerned about the loss of your looks to aging. Like it or not, you are part of a club of increasingly desperate female entertainers caught in a monkey trap. For those who are not familiar, there is a system of trapping monkeys that originates from the jungles of Southeast Asia. In order to trap a monkey, the trapper creates a container with a hole just wide enough for a monkey to stick his or her hand into. The monkey reaches in for the bait but even as the trapper approaches, net in hand, the poor monkey will desperately cling to the bait, unwilling to just let go of the prize and avoid capture.

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