Do The Titles Really Matter?

Tunes I’m Groovin' To : Remedy – Seether

I have one more rant before I take my ass to bed. Sometimes, when I let them, the women at work make me feel like this:

I’ve been scrawny forever. I’m straight up and down like a stickbug, with scrawny little chicken wings and chicken legs. I have no ass. I have no tits. I don’t exercise. I eat McDonald’s three times a week. I have no comprehension of carbs, proteins and Atkin’s diet. I eat salad because I like it doused in thousand island dressing and big fat crouton’s. Nope. No need to dip the one piece of lettuce into a teeny side dish of dressing. In fact, I could drink the dressing like a can of Pepsi and you wouldn’t notice. I don’t take the stairs. I always use the elevator. Even if it’s only for one floor. I don’t run. I don’t jog. I don’t even think about those two things and myself in the same thought.

Ask me if I ever eat. Ask me what I eat. Ask me how I can eat what I eat. Because… that’s not fucking rude at all. Not ALL skinny people shove their fingers down their throat or refuse to be fed unless it’s via IV. Do you really think BONES is a compliment?? Don’t try and give me your self image issues for something I have no control over. Dummies.

Some of us are born this way and no matter how hard we try, we don’t get bigger. I’m not apologizing for looking like a toboggan leaning against a wall.

I’m going to go eat a bag of cookies and drink a can of Pepsi right before bed. I might even sneak one of the kids chocolate pudding snacks.

You asked. Night, Fuckers.