You wouldn’t know it to look at me, but my father is all bones, sinews and skin. Extended, this means he has a beautifully starved face, with high cheekbones jutting out at sharp angles. This morning, in my rush to kiss him goodbye, fly out of the door and conquer the world, I bumped my nose against these glorious cheekbones. Hard.
Suffice to say, the world is now safe from my claws.
When I’m empress of the universe, I shall ban thin people. Or kissing. Probably both. Thereby, I shall give birth to a new fetish sub-culture of kissing thin peeps chastely on the cheek.
How pleased the social conservatives will be.