Dear SCORCHers,
At some point or another every woman has had an encounter with me. I mean I kinda get up in there. I puff out, hump up and make myself seen. I have my share of haters mostly from jealous b!tches or those who think they were morally appointed to judge me. Judgement passed regardless of if it’s that time of the month, the type of clothing material, nil or ill-fitting undergarments or just damn good genes. However, I can no longer take it and now I’ve got something to say. My reasons for rearing my head is simply to clear up some of the most common misconceptions about me.
My name is Camel Toe, and it’s finally time I speak up.
What am I? A wedgie at the front of your pants, sometimes your dress, dependent on the material and fit. I generally take the shape of a camel’s split hooves, hence my name’s origin. I also go by nicknames such as Hungry Kitty, Garfield, Buffy, Moose Knuckle, “nah girl all that cyah be yours” and much more. What am I not? A product of looseness or an attention seeker. So please don’t judge me.
Due to being suffocated by having myself forced into clothing that is wayyyy too tight, I am forced to push forward for fresh air. Attempts on my life have been made by the likes of spandex, leggings, yoga pants and skinny jeans alike. There are also these tiny thongs which encourage my fat ass to exercise. This stupid tight rope causes me at times to stretch, appearing to split in two, when in actuality I am simply extending both arms to keep from falling out of my constraints. I also have a secret impostor; she is a poser. She tries at all lengths to look like me, but just appears absurdly fat. I’ll admit at times to I don’t wear underwear, but I mean come on dammit! What would you do in my situation?? Sometimes I just need to pop out to say hi. Who the hell likes restraints?
It’s very hurtful sometimes when other women think I purposely come out to ‘strut my stuff’. Maybe I have a hormonal problem which is why I’m so overweight. I do try to shield myself from this unwanted attention but my efforts are often in vain. You men who also point and gape and ask “if mih mother know I have mumps”, please stop it. Y’all are disgusting. To those males and females who I leave speechless – my sincerest apologies. To those who have learnt the “cha cha cha” of gaping; thank you. The stare, look away, stare, wipe imaginary sweat from brow, makes me feel a bit less self conscious.
I do understand that my bearers can sometimes be physically unappealing, so you assume that I am. Please don’t associate me with that. I’m actually a beautiful person inside. My heart is pink, soft and full of life and love. I give the best and tightest hugs. Ok, so maybe I’ve got a big head, and so what if I’m fat? So what if I do splits (I’m an acrobat) and fight for air, or swell up when I get angry or excited?… Guess what that’s life. All I ask is that you change your false assumptions about me. I have feelings too.
Sincerely,
Camel Toe.
