In case you doubted it, a daily serving or two of Jiffy Corn Bread for breakfast, and a nightly, bedtime treat of a chocolate ice-cream cone, can make you really fat, it's true. Fat. I look preggers to me. We're (my friends and I) are calling this baby Corn Pone. I even walk like I 'm preggers--waddle waddle, hefting my gut around. I think it's time to change my diet. Melea, my friend who is still in her twenties, but not by much, suggested that I start wearing Muumuus. Snotty little bitch. This new baby better be nicer than that.
Well I've baked brownies for a friend, (you know who you are) and now I have to go find some fat clothes at the second hand store. I have an appointment with my Shrink on Thursday. I want to look my best for her, since my fucking fate lies in her hands. I'm thinking it might be time to switch one of my mood stabilizing drugs. Because there's one thing I know; I want to stay out of the looney bin. Sorry folks if calling it that is offensive, but if you spent any time in one, you know what I mean. Let's not pussy foot around here. I'm fat and a little crazy.