Thursday, March 19, 2009

Gumby Face

Dear Campbell,

So, you're pregnant, not fat. Well you're
getting fat, but it's only because you're pregnant. I can accept the doughy squish of a woman full of grace. I do have a new problem with your mouth, though. Some people have expressive eyes. Others have expressive hands. Your expression is in your cavernous face hole. I don't like that. Your lips remind me of painted tubes of Playdough that children roll like prayers in their hands to make Gumby mouths. When you're attentively listening to a guest on No Bias, No Bull, your upper lip frowns down and meets the straight line of your bottom as though awaiting information to stir them back into globby conversation. The problem I have with your voluptuous mouth his that I can imagine you eating with it and it being equally expressive during said nourishment. I'm seriously grossed out when I picture you holding a spoonful of steaming goo before your face, the subsequent "O"-ing of your mouth, the full envelopment of your lips over the spoon, and the purse-lipped mechanical digestion of whatever you fancied for lunch. Gag!

To be fair, I didn't feel this was a problem until you became a hippopotamus with child, but now I'm transfixed and hypnotized by its upper and lower undulations. I don't want to be transfixed anymore, Campbell. I don't wanna.



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