The Women Here Are Frightening.

Yesterday, I was in the subway, heading to Grand Central, when my eyes happened upon the feet of a lady who was sitting across from me. She had on these fancy, strappy, agonizing-looking stiletto sandals and on the insides of her feet, just below the big toes, she had these huge, solid, painful-looking fleshy lumps. Judging by the way they were nestled soundly between the unforgiving straps of her brutal footwear, I'm going to go as far as to guess that they are the creation of blocks upon blocks of painful walking while ignoring the burning, stinging sensation of her feet saying, "FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, THESE SHOES DON'T FIT RIGHT." But oh yeah. That's right. You have to suffer to be beautiful. You have to suffer to attain that lovely, horse-like click-click sidewalk trotting effect that elongates the legs and lifts the butt. Give me a break. This is New York City. Give me some shoes I can run in. That way, at least I can avoid the hideous mistreatment bunions... clearly a result of being TOO gorgeous.