Rachel Ray's Magnificent Ass
And I don't care who knows about it...
Have I ever told you the story of how Rachel Ray's Magnificent Ass saved my life? I'm reprinting this because, sometimes, I have to stop and remember why I blog. Why I breathe. Why I live.
It was so long ago. I was despondent. I was lost. I was crawling through my own confusion. I was meandering about, wondering what was wrong with me. I had no purpose.
And then, on the Internet one day, I saw the picture you see above. I have always been frisky, and for years I fought my inner friskiness. I made a prude of myself. I invented reasons to be chaste and I blushed too often. Sorry, the Internet is a place for expression. In the 1960s, I wore suits and sold things and I passed on the free love and the good times. I spent forty years with my nose to the grindstone, making money and taking names. Now? Now I can reflect and comment, share and inform. I will make things that will cause you to laugh, to weep and to moan with ecstasy. Yes, even you, mother. Stop reading my blogs if you think there's something wrong with me. Father approves. In fact, Father loves writing on his blog, the one I set up for him because he couldn't make the girl who steals his shoes and potatoes do it for him at Leisure World.
I was lost, and then, I was found. That's because I saw Rachel Ray's Magnificent Ass when I was broken, alone, sleeping the garage, and as low as I have ever been.
I saw it, and it spoke to me. It said to me that there was a woman out there who was so beautiful, so curvy, so classy, so wonderful that she didn't care what anyone thought of her, and her purpose was to cook, to entertain, to laugh, and have a good time. Rachel Ray, in and of herself, is a wonderful woman, very courageous, very talented. I cannot say enough good things about her. I refuse to denigrate her--when I say she has a magnificent ass, it means that she transcends all and should be put on a pedestal and worshipped like a Greek Goddess. I am humbled to view her eminence. I am a better man for acknowledging her wonder. She is perfection, and I am an imperfect, adoring male. The female in this world has power over the male, you see, because we must pay tribute to the glory that is her figure and form and her persona. She is the better part of us, these people, these women in our lives. Love your mothers, wives, girlfriends, companions, and even the daughter who just walks in and starts telling us we were terrible fathers in the 1980s. Yes, even you Miranda. I should appreciate you more, but I don't. I'm sorry.
Rachel Ray's Magnificent Ass has made me a better father, a more attentive lover, and a better man. A better man. Nothing in this world could make me admit that, except for her ass. I swear it is true.
Rachel Ray doesn't need me--I need her. Rachel Ray is more than a photo. She is an empire of goodness and kindness. She had those pictures taken of her because, well, why not? Why not show the world that a gal can do that? The rest is history. Haters need not apply. Embrace the good, reject the callow, and appreciate the magnificence that she represents. Do something to make all of the women in your life feel special. It's time we as men realized that we've not been respectful or appreciative of women. We're all the same, we're all equal. Don't let that dingbat take the fall for your under performing company, sir. Let her feel good about herself. Have some dopey kid take the fall instead.
Once I saw that picture, I knew that I had to blog, to write, to find a purpose. I had to make things happen. I had to create blogs that were good, better than what was out there. Forget that Search Engine Optimization malarkey--whatever malarkey is anyway--I create, I publish, I make, I do, I find, I search, I sift--I make it all happen. I decide, I conjure, I analyze. I bring it and I leave it.
I am who I am because I love Rachel Ray's Magnificent Ass. It moves me to tears, it does. It's a ripe apple hanging from a tree in the garden of Earthly delights, and I cannot have it. I can see it, I can appreciate it, I can tell you how grand and special it is. But it is not mine. It is hers. She shares it with us, like a secret.
Thank you, Rachel. This old, crying man with a happy face and a smile only for you...I break down trying to finish this. I do.
Thank you.
