I've decided that since I'm so bitter, I should devote one day of the week to hating on something. John-Stossel it up over here.
This week's topic: TANOREXICS
A disease known to spread among teenage beauty queens, blossoming trixies, and homosexual men, research has shown that the affinity for tanorexia develops at an alarmingly early age, oftentimes in conjunction with the discovery of schnozzberries.
Oompa Loompa: Gateway Tanorexic
Left unchecked, tanorexics develop a "leatherbound transsexual" appearance often accompanied by peroxide blonde hair, emaciated frame, skin-tight dresses, and stripper heels.
Socialite: Bottle Blondorexic (Note the Auschwitz clavicle.)
The addiction begins with a desire to simply "look healthy," but sadly many tanorexics abuse themselves in order to lure a man. Some are unsuccessful (see above), while others end up with a financially enviable mate. The boost in income often leads women to enhance other features, such as lips, eyes and cheekbones.
Trophy Wife: American Dream or Collagen Nightmare?
Tanorexics aren't limited to night clubs, sprawling estates, or wonderous chocolate factories. Tanorexics walk among us.
She's the creepy orange, vericose-veined woman in my gym's locker room. The one that judges my thighs while I judge the blinding whites of her eyeballs.
She's my mom, who's practically burgundy in December but swears she doesn't tan. I see the lotion in your passenger seat, liar!
She's the co-anchor on my local Fox News morning broadcast. The chick they brought in from Texas who's skin tone hasn't changed in a year. Is she the proper dermatological role model for our youth?
Jan Jeffcoat: Everyday 'Rexic
Tanorexics are not freaks. They're just really fucked up.
So there's that,