I almost broke today. There was this onion bun on the counter and I could smell it. I wanted it so bad. With some turkey breast, hot peppers, and honey mustard; holy mother of god it was going to be incredible. I had just finished a run and I'm going to be drinking tonight so I figured... what's one onion bun sandwich-stravaganza? The deal was done, the fridge was open, my head was inside poking for fixins. I had just cut the bun in half when she finally jumped in.
Stop right there you fat little fuck.
Shit. Busted.
Are you out of your chubby mind? We are at 117. We are doing good. Why are you ruining this?
I am starving and I have to drink tonight. I don't want to get sick.
Don't be stupid. The more you have in your stomach, the more you have to drink. You put that sandwich in your mouth and you have to intake even more tonight. Fast and you save calories twice.
Dammit, she's right. She's always right. I put the two halves of the bun back in it's bag and poured a glass of water instead. Now I can drink less, get the same buzz, and save even more calories. And I won't feel full in jeans. But I was still kind of pissed at her for stopping what would have been a delicious lunch so I grabbed a teaspoon of peanut butter. So there.
You are such a passive aggressive bitch.
My brother made a meatball sandwich out of the glorious onion bun.
No comments:
Post a Comment