IT’S ALL FERGIE’S FAULT

 So there was Fergie, right there on the Tyra Banks show doing her song Fergalicious (definition: make them boys go loco).

I crossed my legs tightly to watch the performance, as I’ve learned from experience some of Fergie’s lyrics make me laugh so hard I lose control. I’m not kidding; I still get giggly when I think of the words from the song My Humps:

My hump my hump my hump my hump my hump my hump

My hump my hump my hump my hump my lovely lady lumps

My lovely lady lumps my lovely lady lumps

In the back and in the front

Anyway, it wasn’t the lyrics that caught my attention. No, this time it was Fergie’s dancing. As I’ve said before, I have no qualm with Fergie, who is certainly lovely and and appears to be gifted in her particular genre of music. But as she sang

so delicious (aye-aye-aye-aye)

so delicious (aye-aye-aye-aye)

so delicious (aye-aye-aye-aye)

I’m Fergalicious t-t-t-t-t-tasty

her hips gyrated and whipped belly dancer-style, as though completely independent of her body. Seriously, she had to be in direct violation of several laws of physics.

Still, how hard could it be? Shakira goes there frequently during her performances, even that bobble-headed Jessica Simpson has mastered the moves. We’re all women, right? We all have the same moving parts and low center of gravity, right?

Sheepishly, I peeked around the living room. . . nope, no one there but me and a sleeping dog. I stood in front of the tv and watched closely as Fergie’s hips vibrated like a wind up toy. Then I went for it: Huh– to the right! Huh-to the left! Huh-right! Huh-left! Right, left, right-faster and faster! No longer sleeping, the dog moved nearer and cocked her head to get a better look at my action.

That’s when I heard a little *crick*, and when the pain started. You know. . .the pain that reminded me I’m not Fergie, Shakira, or even that bobble-headed Jessica Simpson. We might all be women, we might all have the same moving parts and low center of gravity, but some of us are in our twenties and shaped like this

while others of us are in our forties and more closely resemble this shape:

You don’t have to draw me a picture. Although it helps. And that’s a lesson I’ll mull over as the Tylenol takes effect.

 

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