The key iconography missing from the Snapchat IPO festivities was the collage of young women showing off their tits. Every technology and media advancement eventually comes back to selling sex. Small pieces are carved out for NFL draft chatter and lip gloss advice.
Within that cauldron of being fuckable for a living, you have to give proper credit to the vixens who break from the pack. Every skinny Latino can throw a punch. Only a couple dozen will ever be lightweight champs. Abigail Ratchford turned herself into a cartoon character you can beat off to, as men had to do before the censors eased up on the moving pictures.
Sexually frustrated mid-century cartoonists drew girlfriend and sidekick characters with impossibly healthy breasts and slender waists. Impossible before the advent of strip mall plastic surgeons. Now, Google "hottest Instagram models" and you'll see an unending inventory.
The medium changes, the message remains the same: this will make your dick feel good. There are 50,000 women working to be this very same brunette hot piece of social media ass.
It's American Idol, for the heteronormative. Social media is the best thing that ever happened to men, once you know how to properly filter.
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