Dear person responsible for the camera adding 10 pounds,
Congratulations. The camera is arguably one of the greatest inventions of all time. One that has allowed me to capture and share images of my most cherished moments–looking 10 pounds fatter than I really am. So, to those congratulations I add: You son of a bitch.
Why? Why would you do such a thing? Why would you choose to tarnish, nay ruin, something as beautiful as the lifelong keepsake that is a photograph? Do you get off on being the S in S&M and the humiliation it inflicts on others? Is this some evil ploy to make me stop posing for pictures so that one day you can eventually erase all memory of my existence? Or, as I secretly suspect, is it something so simple, yet conniving, as the fact that, in reality, you’re nothing more than a fatty yourself? One who is trying to get even with me (and all the other good looking, properly proportioned people) because we have something you don’t: Efficient metabolism.
My therapist says these are paranoid delusions that arise from my self-esteem issues and I’m projecting them onto you. But I’m pretty sure he’s lying seeing as how he’s a fatty too and doesn’t have a single picture of himself, or anyone else for that matter, in his office. When I asked why, he claimed he doesn’t need the self-validation. Yet his walls are covered with all his precious degrees and stupid shrink awards. But I digress. This is about you. So let’s get back to that.
Now I know what you’re probably thinking right now, “Your lighting is bad, the angles are all wrong, and you don’t have a steady hand.” Blah blubbedy bullshit blah. That’s right, you’re full of it. I may not be Annie Leibowitz, but I’m pretty sure I turned on the auto flash. And, FYI, my camera has an image stabilization feature. As for shooting from the wrong angle, I don’t care where the camera is, if I didn’t have a muffin top before the picture, can you kindly explain why I have one after? Ditto for the double chin.
This information probably comes as a shock, seeing as how, when it comes to your precious little invention, chances are you’re used to flattery. But the fact remains: The 10 extra pounds you tacked on are not doing me any favours. Although, it should be noted, I don’t mind the enhancement it provides to my crotchal region.
Regardless, had you taken a little extra time during the development process, this whole situation could have been avoided. And I wouldn’t have had to spend all that time, and money, learning the necessary Photoshop skills required to remove your “additions”. But no, all you could think about was yourself. You saw nothing but congratulatory high fives and dollar signs in your future. You never, even for a second, considered the psychological implications those 10 pounds would have on me.
So, you son of a bitch, I can only hope this letter shocks you into action, maybe squeezes a few tears out of your cruel eyes, and helps you see the error of your ways. Then, hopefully, you’ll return to the drawing board and find somewhere else to put those 10 useless pounds so I can go back to felling good about myself–and never again hear someone comment on my man boobs.