OK, now you’re just being a dick.

This seems like a perfectly rational response to a Facebook post by my fit, attractive local meteorologists.

But seriously, 9 miles? On your DINNER BREAK?! Go fuck yourselves. You ain’t right. Do you not KNOW about tacos?

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“Girl, look at that body…”

Yesterday I wore skinny pants, except I’m NOT skinny, and then I had Chinese food, and then I got puffy, aaand now I have this…fat-rash above my belly button where my tummy was trying to escape my belt.

Honestly, I don’t even know how y’all deal with how sexy I am.

Achieving Emotional Stability Through Toast

I have family time later, so I ordered coffee and green juice with my breakfast. Might also grab some form of protein shake beforehand.

#EmotionalCrosstraining
#BasicallyRocky
#PerfectlyRational
#NotTodaySatan

“Did you ever know that you’re my hero [sandwich]?”

Yesterday my mother implied that I’m gonna die if I don’t watch my weight, so I’m not really feelin’ all this “wind beneath my wings” bullshit today.

I AM, however, feelin’ this cream cheese layering a glorious, salty spackle over my hurt feelings.

Happy Mother’s Day!

“If you get any fatter, you’re gonna die. Love, Mom.”

My mom isn’t saying I need to lose weight, but since I mentioned it earlier, just so I know, So-and-So just died of a heart attack at age 43 because she was overweight.

She also had high blood pressure and smoked, which Mom knows I don’t do, but… just, you know… “It’s not just about vanity.”

“Well, yeah, but my health is fine at this weight. Blood pressure, cholesterol, it’s all perfect.”

“Yeah, I know, but you have to keep it that way.”

So I guess “Don’t get any fatter” is the sage wisdom getting passed down through the generations this Mother’s Day?

Cool. Noted. Someone put that shit on a Hallmark card.

And it was on the way out the door, too. My mom is a fucking MASTER of the emotional drive-by.

“I wasn’t trying to say you need to lose weight.”

“I really don’t know what else you could’ve been trying to say, Mom.”

“Alright…”

Aaand SCENE. Her husband got in the car and drove them away.

We win at communication.

P.S. Why, yes, she DID send me home with cake and soft pretzels, why do you ask?