You know, I had just typed up a whole hell of a lot of blog and then my computer bluescreened out and shut down, and it didn't save. I was saying that our blog consists of more fat and food than porn and makeup.
Speaking of fat, guess what I ate tonight for dinner? Popeyes Chicken! Before I moved here, there wasn't one close to my house, so I lived without out it for a year. I was skinny back then, too. Why isn't there a Chick-fil-A out here? I checked online, and I'd have to drive an hour to get to one. I was really craving a salad today, but I ate all kinds of fattening stuff instead. Isn't that pleasant? The other day, did I tell you about how I weighed myself in the mailroom on the oversize package scale? The needle vibrated and swayed back and forth for like 20 minutes before it finally landed on the number. You're right. It's the fat percentage that kills me. When I'm cooking and stirring spaghetti sauce or something, I can feel the fat on my arms swinging back and forth. But I keep cooking. And eating.
Should we change the name of our blog to "Fat and Fat"?
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