relocation plan

Arm fat and back fat is rude. If I could gather mine up and shove it into my bra, I'd be laughing and jiggling all the way to the bank... to withdraw all my superficial husband's money... to pay to have my nipples realigned.

Exercising is such a drag. The only sweat I actually enjoy breaking is brought on by sex or frolicking in an alpine meadow. If only there were a way to combine the two... Fuck off Tai-Bo... mama's got a brand new bag.

And guess what? Milk is poison. Luckily I don't really drink milk. Good thing cheese isn't poison. Or whipped cream, or butter, or cafe au lait, or ice cream...etc and so on, because then I'd be seriously screwed.

You know what else kind of bugs me? When people say "tiss-yew" instead of "tish-yew". It bugs me but I kind of get a kick out of it at the same time. Like linguistic S&M.

My favourite tee shirt in highschool had a drawing of Jesus smoking a cigarette with the words "Seriously, Jesus said..." written on it. No wonder I didn't get laid until I was 17.