Isn't It Time You Called Jenny Craig?...
Did you ever have one of those ‘kill yourself with junk food’ weekends? Ugh. I’m sick to my stomach. Oh why oh why do I do this to myself? It’s almost the same as ‘I’ll never drink ever again’ when you’re hung over on a Sunday morning. Then what happens the weekend after that? Yep—you’re back on the saddle slugging them down like the rest of them.
It all started with my father’s birthday. The family was over, and there were chips and dip laying all over every table available in the house. Great. My thighs are widening as I glance around the room. Sandwiches, potato and macaroni salad saturated in mayo with tons of other food like cheese & crackers. From fried little treats to other heart attacks on a plate were served up. The last thing I needed was to eat a slice of birthday cake. I just drank my espresso to possibly heighten my metabolism level. The healthiest thing there was all the delicious alcohol. (That’s in the category of health foods to me…just in case you’re wondering.)
The next evening was an artery clogging event. My girlfriend and I ventured out to our favorite Italian restaurant to meet her old high school friends. We started at the bar. (Where else would we start?) We even got there a half hour early so we could have a martini to wet our appetite. Fuggedaboudit! My appetite was there already. Whatever. I’m a loser…but not in the means of ~weight~...
Jenny Craig to the rescue!!!
Her friends arrive and we got a table in the back. Appetizers that ranged from mozzarella & tomato to prosciutto with tons of provolone tossed into the antipasto. Mussels and clams to eggplant rollatini. Great. And this was just the beginning. I figured, well with all this high calorie/high cholesterol sitting on the table, I’ll order the Chilean sea bass. Maybe it’ll counteract all the globs of fat flowing through my veins. A good martini or two will push it out even more. And if I die? What a way to go! Italians…gotta love em’, right?
Now that I’m done gorging myself like a fat belly pig on crack, I noticed that it was getting late, which meant---espresso time! Time to kick up the metabolism a notch. (I have no idea if that’s true---but it helps me jump around like a lunatic at home….I know, I know...my girlfriend’s a lucky gal.)
What? Everyone has a birthday this month?
See Deb walk. See Deb run. See Deb waddle over to the waitress and tell her we need four pieces of chocolate cake with candles on it. Now I know how those guys who win the hot dog eating contests felt. What was I doing to myself? Self control girl! I wasn’t even hungry. For the love of God---STOP! But no. The festive ~eat yourself till you drop party~ still continued.
Everybody was happier than a pig in shit eating every ounce of food they could possibly fit. I wanted to vomit at this point. I felt bulimic, but not thinner—that’s for sure. Our guests came back to the house with us and drank another cup of coffee. My heart was pounding out of my chest and I knew I was going to be up all night…
Sunday, I wasn’t feel too hot. I was feeling much like Mack truck at this point with no fuel. I was sluggish and irritable. My hangover was fierce and I was working on no sleep. My hormones were raging for some reason—possibly PMS---and I wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around.
Today, my girlfriend had the day off, so we decided to take a walk in the park for exercise. We walked for about an hour and spent the day outside. It was beautiful. We both felt great afterwards and drank a lot of water. What did we do to top it off afterwards? We got huge sandwiches from the deli and again—I went straight for the potato salad. It’s a cry for help people. Nothing like potatoes that have been drowned out by mayo. Nothing like a healthy heart being suffocated by cholesterol.
Gee…I wonder why I’m having chest pains tonight?
A special thanks goes out to Princess Pottymouth from the site, “I Talk Too Much” for giving me their critic’s review. I got smacked five times. (No you pervs---not like that…) They gave me three smacks, and then decided to go with the five because I have pop up advertisements on my blog. I can’t help it! That’s blogger producing those evil little spirits! Another question is, how do I get a drop down blogroll? I think that would definitely be in my best interest. So if you want to see your site get ‘smacked’----visit these lovely PMSing gals. The one guy “Charred” that critiques these sites keeps the sanity level in there at a reasonable level. Beware of these ladies! I guess I’m just a sucker for bitchy women…LOVE THEM! My advice? Don’t get pissed off if they’re a little crass. It’s fun and I wish they would have been a little more harsh with my site. I’m a glutton for punishment. Awe hell—I’m just a glutton.
It all started with my father’s birthday. The family was over, and there were chips and dip laying all over every table available in the house. Great. My thighs are widening as I glance around the room. Sandwiches, potato and macaroni salad saturated in mayo with tons of other food like cheese & crackers. From fried little treats to other heart attacks on a plate were served up. The last thing I needed was to eat a slice of birthday cake. I just drank my espresso to possibly heighten my metabolism level. The healthiest thing there was all the delicious alcohol. (That’s in the category of health foods to me…just in case you’re wondering.)
The next evening was an artery clogging event. My girlfriend and I ventured out to our favorite Italian restaurant to meet her old high school friends. We started at the bar. (Where else would we start?) We even got there a half hour early so we could have a martini to wet our appetite. Fuggedaboudit! My appetite was there already. Whatever. I’m a loser…but not in the means of ~weight~...
Jenny Craig to the rescue!!!
Her friends arrive and we got a table in the back. Appetizers that ranged from mozzarella & tomato to prosciutto with tons of provolone tossed into the antipasto. Mussels and clams to eggplant rollatini. Great. And this was just the beginning. I figured, well with all this high calorie/high cholesterol sitting on the table, I’ll order the Chilean sea bass. Maybe it’ll counteract all the globs of fat flowing through my veins. A good martini or two will push it out even more. And if I die? What a way to go! Italians…gotta love em’, right?
Now that I’m done gorging myself like a fat belly pig on crack, I noticed that it was getting late, which meant---espresso time! Time to kick up the metabolism a notch. (I have no idea if that’s true---but it helps me jump around like a lunatic at home….I know, I know...my girlfriend’s a lucky gal.)
What? Everyone has a birthday this month?
See Deb walk. See Deb run. See Deb waddle over to the waitress and tell her we need four pieces of chocolate cake with candles on it. Now I know how those guys who win the hot dog eating contests felt. What was I doing to myself? Self control girl! I wasn’t even hungry. For the love of God---STOP! But no. The festive ~eat yourself till you drop party~ still continued.
Everybody was happier than a pig in shit eating every ounce of food they could possibly fit. I wanted to vomit at this point. I felt bulimic, but not thinner—that’s for sure. Our guests came back to the house with us and drank another cup of coffee. My heart was pounding out of my chest and I knew I was going to be up all night…
Sunday, I wasn’t feel too hot. I was feeling much like Mack truck at this point with no fuel. I was sluggish and irritable. My hangover was fierce and I was working on no sleep. My hormones were raging for some reason—possibly PMS---and I wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around.
Today, my girlfriend had the day off, so we decided to take a walk in the park for exercise. We walked for about an hour and spent the day outside. It was beautiful. We both felt great afterwards and drank a lot of water. What did we do to top it off afterwards? We got huge sandwiches from the deli and again—I went straight for the potato salad. It’s a cry for help people. Nothing like potatoes that have been drowned out by mayo. Nothing like a healthy heart being suffocated by cholesterol.
Gee…I wonder why I’m having chest pains tonight?
A special thanks goes out to Princess Pottymouth from the site, “I Talk Too Much” for giving me their critic’s review. I got smacked five times. (No you pervs---not like that…) They gave me three smacks, and then decided to go with the five because I have pop up advertisements on my blog. I can’t help it! That’s blogger producing those evil little spirits! Another question is, how do I get a drop down blogroll? I think that would definitely be in my best interest. So if you want to see your site get ‘smacked’----visit these lovely PMSing gals. The one guy “Charred” that critiques these sites keeps the sanity level in there at a reasonable level. Beware of these ladies! I guess I’m just a sucker for bitchy women…LOVE THEM! My advice? Don’t get pissed off if they’re a little crass. It’s fun and I wish they would have been a little more harsh with my site. I’m a glutton for punishment. Awe hell—I’m just a glutton.