JUST SAY NO TO SIX PAK ABS!!

I think America has been duped into thinking you're WORTHLESS if you don't have 6 pak abs.

I'm now. I have my middle finger on the pulse of NYC. I used to have them...but over the last year, I've scaled back on my workouts quite a bit. Now I simply have a flat gut with no ripples. But I'm still sexy, and my body is still smoking, don't worry. Thanks to the WB, the 6 pak ab aesthetic is ingrained in the brains of men and women everywhere, and I've become a candle in the wind, speaking out against the madness of this mindless fitness craze.

Well. There's something wrong (in my humble opinion) with a person who continually spends *that* much time on a certain area to attain sculpted perfection. After years of instinctual obedience to my own good looks, I know what it takes to develop and maintain a perfect abdominal area. You know what? I finally made a decision to stop the endless crunches, ab gadgets, and the sexy burn you get off a hot load of 1000 oblique twists. The pain and anguish is over, my waistline is still intact, and I'm a lot less vulnerable to all those subliminals about body image.

The last guy I dated who lived in Chelsea had a perfect body and he used to always show up late to our dates, his excuse was, "sorry my workout at Equinox ran late." This situation nauseated me, and sure as shit, the marriage could not be saved. I had, after all, ignored my usual policy that strictly forbids dating men from Chelsea and nearby TriBeCa anyways. This was something I envisioned from the very start, but he was a compact, hairy muscular fireplug; a cute little Indian guy who was 5' 6", with beautiful eyes and teeth and the sweetest brownest skin ever. I, blinded by the exteriors, figured "what the hey."

Most guys I date don't even bother making dinner dates, we just go with the flow, and let the semen fly without wasting time on useless dinners and conversation. If a man wants to have dinner with me, I'll do it once, maybe even twice, but not three times.

After dealing with his 6 pak of abs and 12 pak of attitude, I ended the mental cruelty of this painful (2 week) rollercoaster ride, and I vowed to eradicate any trace of abs from my memory, returning to simpler times, when waistlines were just taut, and not rippled and shredded.

So just remember. Six Pac abs are not good for you! You will begin canceling dates and ignoring the very people who are supposed to be loving you, all in a vain attempt to make your waistline resemble a grotesque yet imaginary subway map of a developing third world nation.

Proceed with the utmost caution to the gym. Don't say you weren't warned!