April 24, 2012

Anyway, do you know what’s NOT fucking super? Falling down and breaking your jaw. It is decidedly not super. And I’m pretty sure it’s jesus’s fault that this happened to me, because I was just minding my own business getting loaded on champagne on Easter Sunday with a bunch of rapidly-aging heathens when all of a sudden the sidewalk was touching my face. In a mean way.

So I was hoping that this eat-nothing-that-won’t-fit-through-a-straw-for-six-weeks* thing would be a fun and flirty weight-loss plan for summer 2012, but then I remembered milkshakes. Milkshakes fit through a straw. And so does beer. So I guess nothing’s going to change, except how much it sucks to brush my teeth for a while, and cringing every time someone hugs me from the wrong side (hint: my right).


*And mashed potatoes. Stupid doctor actually RECOMMENDED that an overweight partially-Irish girl eat mashed potatoes. I’m pretty sure he said something about extra butter, too.


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