Why only once a year? Because getting sexified blows the big one, despite what that whore Jillian Michaels* and that short-pants enthusiast Richard Simmons say.
|You gotta admit, the dude has nice legs.|
Trips to the grocery store are pure hell. I alternate between crying over all the food I can't eat, and being really pissed off every time I see someone put a carton of ice cream or a block of cheese in their cart.
"Way to taunt me, asshole!" I want to scream at them.
On my way to the check-out I passed a container of Oreo brownies. My head did that whole swivel over my shoulder as I walked away thing, much like men do when they spot a nice pair of mammaries. Oh, who are we kidding - when they spot any pair of mammaries.
Those Oreo brownies were the ogling equivalent of a surgically enhanced pair of double D's, and drool on myself
But I stayed strong and continued straight to the check out without so much as an "accidental" knuckle caress. And then, as if the food gods were conspiring against me, I encountered the chip whore.
The woman in front of me purchased, not one, not two, but FIVE bags of chips. Two bags of cheetos, one bag of fritos, and two bags of doritos.
I was like a lion in the wild ready to pounce on her prey as the chip whore handed over cash and dangled her bags of salty, crunchy goodness in my face.
This diet is all about eating protein. Chicken and fish and chicken and more chicken and chicken, chicken, chicken!
I have eaten so many damn chickens lately that I've started to sprout feathers and grow talons. I can't wait until my beak grows in so I can peck to death the people who piss me off. Which is everyone, apparently.
Seriously, I am one angry girl.
But it's not my fault. It's the hunger.
I did cave a little on my trip to the store. I bought a bag of Wild Blueberry Walnut Granola with Flax Seed. As soon as I got to my car, I ripped open the bag. Inside were more bags! My food deprived brain went insane. Instead of buying granola, I had bought a bag of bags! What kind of sick joke was this?
I actually yelled, "What the f*ck!" before I realized that inside the little bags was the granola. Apparently, the health gurus at Back to Nature anticipated their buyers would be so starved for a little bit of grain and dehydrated fruit that they'd poke a whole in the bottom of the bag and shotgun the granola like a frat pledge does a can of Natty light.
So they implemented portion control. Imagine that.
Food consumes my every waking thought. I go to bed so I won't eat. But instead of sleeping, I just lie there and contemplate eating the husband.
But then it occurs to me that he probably tastes like chicken.
And I've had enough damn chicken.
P.S. Don't worry, soon I'll realize everything tastes better than skinny feels and go back to being a nice person.
*I don't really think Jillian Michaels is a whore. I'm just dealing with some misplaced rage right now.
And now...comment gems!
Angel Shrout: yeah I have that problem. Mainly because I have huge boobs and they tend to pull me forward. Meaning I lean over with them.. on a positive side they are big enough to cushion me fairly well...
Note to self: get bigger boobs
Kim @the G is Silent: Been there. Done that. On concrete. Main street. Watched by my dogs.
I bet they bring it up all the time, don't they?