Goodbye, Adriana Lima. “It’s A Wonderful Life” taught us that whenever a bell rings, an angel gets its wings. But what signals the time for an angel to have its wings clipped? The ding of a microwave timer, announcing that a magical world of carbohydrates awaits? Whatever it is, we wish Adriana a lifetime of happiness. May she never know the stabbing pangs of hunger again.
I wonder what it’s like when a Victoria’s Secret model is put out to pasture. I like to think they present her with a tray of sliders and an oreo milkshake and tell her to enjoy her first farts ever. I hope she can live in it, embrace it, dutch oven herself ’til her lips turn green. Will she enjoy the smell of her own blend? Most do, but I’m sure it will be disorienting to her at first. She’ll search the house for a gas leak or blame the pack of tiny dogs that follows her around. Eventually, she’ll discover the source—her own, squeaky clean 2-hole as it whistles like a tea kettle.
Apparently, people cried.
It’s like watching Mariano Rivera leave the mound for the last time. Adriana has been throwing heat for 18 years, shutting down [cookie and cake] batters and confounding the Matt Harveys, Julian Edelmans, and Marko Jari?s (go figure?) of the world. Now, she can finally pursue her dreams of, uhm, becoming a commercial airline pilot? Who knows. The world is her oyster.
Goodnight, sweet princess. May angels sing thee to thy rest.