Nothing tastes as good as punching you in your face feels.

I’m trying to get myself back in line with diet and exercise, and you know what fitness dogma I can’t stand? “Nothing tastes as good as being thin feels.”

It’s like… Have you HAD cake? Have you tried smoked gouda, which tastes like cheese and bacon are making sweet, sweet love right there on your tongue? Have you had Haagen Dazs Caramel Cone ice cream? Have ya had bacon that’s been baked with brown sugar — motherfucking CANDY BACON?!

I think you’ve been eating the wrong food.

Now, OK, am I eating less of that stuff trying to get excess weight off my body? Certainly, I understand I have to. But don’t tell me nothing *tastes* as good, because food is goddamn delicious. I’ve never been thin, but I’ve weighed less, and lots of stuff totally tastes better than that. And I’d rather be a li’l rotund than never eat French fries again. I just need to control the amount of them I shovel into my face, which I am not always the best at. (Curious, the girl with the sex blog can’t keep delicious things out of her mouth — ‘sup, Freud?)

P.S. Holy shit, can we just DISCUSS mozzarella sticks?! CHEESE! FRIED CHEESE! In stick form! Come ON! A stick. In my mouth. But it’s cheese.

Food is GREAT. Shut your piehole (or whatever you’re eating that doesn’t taste as good as being thin feels).

Sometimes a macaron is just a macaron.

I love that it’s perfectly normal for my ladies’ night conversations to progress naturally to me saying to the guy running the French bakery: “Speaking of Freud, may I please have that macaron with the goo in the middle?”