No Way, No How

I’ve gained 10 pounds. I can’t count my ribs anymore or wear my jeans down to my vagina but at least I haven’t burst into inexplicable hysterics recently when people have asked me out to dinner. I figure starting today; I’ll begin my transformation back to skinny bitch. Sure, my friends and family find me annoying and insufferable when I’m in strict diet mode but truthfully, I used to rock the fuck out of those vagina exposing jeans and I intend to get back into them before summer.

I’m one of those former fat people who is a devout believer in “food addiction” When I’m dieting, I feel so empowered and in control. However, when I’m “off the wagon”, I am OFF THE FUCKING WAGON. Literally calling up contractors for quotes on in-ground pools I can fill with dark chocolate fondue and dangling my Girl Scout neighbor upside down by her ankles in hopes of discovering a loose thin mint. I have these crazy daydreams where I choose which friend I sell to the devil in exchange for calorie-less cupcakes.  (Your turn this week Millsie, stock up on your SPF Infinity) It’s just a nomming, chomping, gluttonous free-for-all. Remember the move Se7en? Remember that fat guy in his underwear face first in a plate of spaghetti, dead? Tubby’s got NOTHING on me. That killer would have tossed that guy aside in a hot second and I would have been bumped to number one on his “gluttony” victim list had he seen what I can do to a box of refrigerated Devil Dogs. Straight domination. 

But today, I’m finally in control. I realized I've become too bitchy to start getting fat again. I’ve created a good life consisting of throwing bitches dirty looks and having sex with former reality TV stars and I’ll be DAMNED before I give all of that up for some Haagen-Dasz.