At midnight I’m sitting up in bed alone, eating cold Chinese food and watching the cat sleep at my feet.
How pathetic can you get. How did this happen?
This is not the life I ordered and I want my money back.
Speaking of food (a subject near and dear to my heart) I read about a study this morning on obesity. Seems that some brainiac researchers at Harvard Medical School have concluded that your friends can make you fat.
The bottom line of this 32 year study (and still no cure for cancer) is YES! In fact you don’t even have to live in close proximity to your fattie friend to take on some extra baggage. I’m thinking that it probably helps though.
Now lemme digest this.
I actually lost weight after meeting TK. Granted, the guy doesn’t have any extra fat on him but he is the best cook that I know.
The man is an epicurean and prepared full dinners every evening which were loaded with caloric and artery-clogging goodness. This seeming dichotomy prompted me to conduct my own investigation this morning and the results are astounding.
My conclusions after the exhaustive 5 minute study (involving heavy contemplation, coffee and a sample group of one) are as follows:
Rich gourmet food does not make you fat even when served by friends.
Your friends are not jiggly-contagious.
Ceasing mastication prior to asking your host ‘which way to the vomitorium’ is a capital idea.
Don’t eat so fucking much. If Susie jumped off a bridge would you? Well would you? Don’t give me that surly look missy. Just wait until your father comes home.
Is it me?
~Miss “I’m not fat I’m just festively plump” R