I was just looking for a picture of Wonderwoman (please don't ask why), and I came across this image:
Man, did I love Wonderwoman when I was little--had a bathing suit like her, birthday cake in the shape of Ww, imagined my own adventures in the jet... I used to terrorize the neighborhood boys by jumping out at them from various trees and bushes, yelling about justice and the Lasso of Truth. I also thought that she was beautiful--but that was sort of beside the point. In my five year old world, she mainly kicked alot of ass. But now I look at Linda Carter's picture, and all I can think is: She seriously needs a sandwich. And possibly some Wonderwoman underoos. That's what I get for re-visiting childhood memories of awesomeness: Amphetamine-drenched Super-heroes shaped by corsets & camera screens--anorexic, exhausted, and camel-toey. Ick.
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