The gift that keeps on giving

Show me all the Mother’s Day jewelry and flower ads you want, but I just realized the “perfect gift” for MY mom this year will be a gift certificate to my therapist.

Suck it, Pandora bracelets.

Advertisements

I got your package right here!

Ahem, so… I have most packages delivered to my office, and my coworker just handed me this one.

It’s a candle. But that’s…REALLY not what it felt like…

My junk, my junk, my junk is on fire…

I’m shopping online for an ugly sweater for an office party, and came across this dress. It lives in the Target juniors’ department, and…seems to indicate that the wearer’s loins are burning…?

Bold choice, Target.

Cake AND death, probably.

Around May, I noticed my jeans were getting tight, so I bought bigger jeans, but thought, “Oh, OK, wakeup call — I should lose some weight.”

Buuut I didn’t.

And then the bigger jeans started getting tight, and I thought, “NO. This is horseshit. I’m not spending MORE money — I’ll just lose some weight. For real this time.”

Buuut I didn’t.

So I bought the NEXT biggest size, and you know what? I am fucking COMFORTABLE. God, fat pants are the BEST. And the kinda stretchy fat pants with Spandex or whatever in ’em? DAMN. So good.

Screw it. The world is awful and cake is great.

(Ahem… This defiant attitude brought to you by the first time a doctor ever told me it might be good to lose some weight, which happened last week. But she based it on BMI, and BMI is fake news. Suck it, lady. #sheetcaking for the win.)