Dear Serena Williams, So You’re Just Gonna Be This Flawless Effortlessly? Ok.
Serena. I SAY, SERENA. GIRL STAHP. Why did you just do this to all of us? Your New York Magazine cover and editorial is the reason people write songs and poems and whatnots. I wanna pen some haikus and limericks in your honor because GAHTDAMB. I bet Common used one of his crochet beanies of days past to wipe some tears because these pictures of you are EVERYTHING. Everything. Every gahtdamb thing and I am LIVING for it.
You balanced on some bars like you told gravity you weren’t here for it cuz you’s a grown woman and you do whatever you want. You look so calm too, like in the next frame, you were telling your friend “Girl, let me tell you what happened.”
The only time I look this serene is when I’m in bed with flaming hot chips in one hand and my laptop in another, on optimum chill. But Serena, you’re doing a perfect split on two bars the size of my puny wrists, looking like you’re one “namaste” from Nirvana. I DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR YOUR EPIC ASS. I just don’t. Who told you to be this flawless? WHO, I ASK? You are so damb disrespectful in your ability to exist effortlessly like the goddess that you are. Just flaw-deficient. I called flaw up and asked if it knew you and it was all “Serena? Oh I can’t go near her.” Girl, bye. With your amazing ass. I love it.
Not only are you on the tennis court snatching white women’s edges on your way to victories and championships, then you’re in front of some camera lens looking like the unfuggwitable magical unicorn Black woman that you are. Ma’am, I bow at your feet. Chile, yes. Just yes.
These abs could bleach a shirt stained with Nigerian stew grease without detergent. WASHBOARD ON TEN. The muscles too? I don’t even know if I’m worthy. The little yorkie on the right is like “you petty for showing out like this and making everyone feel inadequate.” SHE IS. You might have just said “what yorkie?” I don’t blame you. It’s easy to miss the small dog to the right when the Queen in the middle has stolen all your attention with her fierceness.
I tried doing a cartwheel and hurt myself by falling sideways into my wall. But Serena outchea putting her leg up straight in the air like that’s normal. Favor ain’t fair.
Basically, I saw these pics and realized that Monday was a wrap for me before it began. Everyone can go home because Monday has been slayed. Just… wrap it up. It’s done. Monday is sold out and we can try again next week.
I promise if I had half the body you do, I’d be a terrible person with no friends and no behavior. I don’t have ANY couth now so can you imagine? You can’t. It’s ok. Jesus made sure I wasn’t BAWDY blessed because He knew me before I got here. He knew I would be the reason for “don’t be awful because you look good” manuals. I’ve said it before. Your yansh is my spirit animal. But nay, your entire badassness on the court and off is my patronus. When I say “Expecto Patronum” your abs come out my wand and fend off all evil things.
Thank you, Serena Williams. For being everything dope.
P.S. BISH, COME THROUGH!