foot envy

so there i am hoofin' it for the bus when i spot it - a nike ad. i've seen a million shoe advertisements, probably a billion, but for some reason this one hit me like an abusive father. i, no matter what i accomplish, will never be able to wear a pair of nike shoes. this fact seems inconsequential at best - especially since i son't endorse companines employing slave labour - but it's the corollary that floors me like a thirteen year old 'dancing' after her first mickey of rum: i'll never be a foot model, a shoe ad model, or be able to wear running shorts. no matter how much i moisturize, what kind of products i use, i will always have hooves, four hairy legs, and beautiful busy tail. i'm different, i'm in no way the examplar of what this society considers good looking.
how do i cope? what do i do? do i get down on myself for being different? No. Hell no. FUCK NO! i am a proud centaur, i'm a good person, an excellent listener, an amusing companion, and one hell of polo player. so fuck you nike and fuck the non-human torsoed horse you rode in on.
t-shirted centaur
p.s. you know whay i hate? guessing games. bwhaha. i'm fucking hilarious. that one's for you pan, you rambunctions nymph you.