Gabby Windey

How long are we going to have to wait?

Am I going to have the crepes?

How long will I have to chase my fascia that burdens me?

I continue with layers of 10% menthol I see hot to increase the blood flow.

I've since stopped pounding with a Theragun because it could have been causing more injury to the tissue, but I was doing it lightly and they said light massage can help.

I don't know anymore.

I don't know, alleged in my opinion.

I take baking soda baths as Robbie's mother of 10 recommends to any of her ailed children along with the loud, shut the fuck up, do you want to go to the hospital?

We're going to have to take the trains.

So now, as I said before, I'm wearing a bodysuit of compression clothing to decrease the swelling that persists and puts my perfectly flared jeans at risk of ripping at the ass crack seams.

You know how hard jeans are to find.

How am I going to find another one?

So now my upper thighs, they live under the red light with a repetitive prayer.

Please, God, if you can hear me, eradicate these cowardly lumps and I will never sin again.

Followed by a good wink to the deity for those who are listening.

This is all about targeting and marketing towards women who have cellulite, which is basically all of us.

If you take a microscope and look around, you're going to find some, which is me.

Plus, I hadn't worked out in three years, so naturally, like, my legs are going to change, but why don't I do a fucking lunge for once?

And it's ruining our lives because we're so desperate to be perfect as women.

Because society says we're not good enough unless we have nair smooth legs with no dimples and no natural fat.