Suck it in, J...

Don’t get me wrong. I love Janet Jackson. I loved her when she was chubby. I love her when she looked like this:



I was a bit skeeved by the nipple slip only because, well, it wasn’t pretty, okay?

I don’t mean to talk bad about Janet – Ms. Jackson if you’re nasty, and I am – but I feel like she might be in pain.



Look at her breasts, people:



They don’t look like boobs – the look like someone overturned a pair of salad bowls and superglued them to her chest. And that necklace looks like some kind of S&M piece, or maybe thin strips of electrical tape on which the salad bowls are precariously balanced. The jacket looks too tight, the pants look too tight and it looks as though some magical golden hands are trying desperately to hold the zipper closed. And the 50 bracelets - how can she lift her hand? God, Ms. Jackson! Can you BREATHE in there?

I know you want to show off the hot new bod but don’t punish yourself. We’ve all been there. We’ve all yo-yoed. We’ve all dated ugly guys:



But there’s no need to strap yourself into some ritualistic torture device to make amends.

Maybe just do some community service – kiss a baby, walk an old lady across the street, spit your gum into a trash can instead of the sidewalk. Baby steps, Ms. Jackson. Baby steps.