02:36:16 am on
Thursday 07 Nov 2024

Butter Butts
Jennifer Flaten

Whew! I’m so relieved. Finally, we know the truth, Kim Kardasian’s butt is 100% natural and how scary is that.

Good, now, I can finally stop worrying. Weren’t you anxious? Come on, how could you stand not knowing? It was this century’s “Who shot JR? “

Didn’t you lay awake at night wondering what if it isn’t real? What might it be, lard? Imagine the repercussions if it wasn’t

Hmm, wait a minute, something like that might just give the economy the shot in the ass it needs. No I don‘t feel bad about that pun, not at all. Think of all the money flowing around as women everywhere rush out to get the “Kim.” 

Yes, I realize that someone, somewhere, in fact, is sporting a new Kim inspired behind, courtesy of her local silicone cowboy. Of course, here is the Midwest, well, Wisconsin, anyway, we don’t need implants we get our large butts the old-fashioned way. That is, by eating “butter burgers.”

These burgers are exactly as you imagine. Each is meat fried in butter, topped with cheese on a buttered bun. What can I say? Wisconsin is the “Dairy State.”

We try to use dairy in as many things as possible. I wouldn’t be surprised if we find a way to put cheese in beer. Of course, I am being sarcastic; I don’t really care if her butt is real or not. As you know, I don’t get the whole “reality” television thing.

First, there is nothing real about the programs. Unless, your reality involves hordes of camera operators following you around and you frequently sequester yourself in a closet to vent about your fellow tribe members. Otherwise, these shows are not real

The only way, I would even consider watching a program like “Survivor” is if there was actually a chance that a wild boar would systematically eat all the contestants. Alas, this will never happen. Not because no one would try out for the program, heavens no, I am sure there are people more than willing to be a snack for a ravenous beast if it meant their mug was on television.

No, I figure it is more of a business decision. I imagine it is hard to explain to the insurance underwriters that you lost a whole cast to a giant anaconda. Thus, reality television in no way matches my reality.

I will tune in when there is a “Real Housewives of Wisconsin.” I can picture an episode now, a bunch of women in sweatshirts with foam cheese on their heads sitting drinking Pabst and discussing how the Pack is going take it all the way again this year.

Oh, wait that is just a memory from my last family reunion. Still, about this x-ray, the more I think about it, the more I realize there is a great idea lurking there.

If Kim must confirm she has a homegrown ass, then how about we demand celebrities or politicians who say or act stupid get an x-ray to prove they have a brain. No, no that wouldn’t work--imagine the lines at the hospitals. The poor x-ray techs would be overwhelmed. Ah, here’s the rub, would you feel better or worse if you had evidence Sarah Palin has a brain?

Never mind.

Jennifer Flaten lives where the local delicacy is fried cheese, Wisconsin. She writes about family life, its amusing or not so amusing moments. "At least it's not another article on global warming," she says. Jennifer bakes a mean banana bread and admits an unusual attraction to balloon animals and cup cakes. Busy preparing for the zombie apocalypse, she stills finds time to write "As I See It," her witty, too often true column. "My urge to write," says Jennifer, "is driven by my love of cupcakes, with sprinkles on top. Who wouldn't write for cupcakes, with sprinkles," she wonders.

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