Bite Me.

Spring cleaning can bite me because when you can’t lose a pound and you have to give away your clothes and your husband can still button a Phillies jacket from when he was a BOY. Wtf? Seriously… what the fuck?

Until next time,

Fatty signing off.

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Being a Super Hero

It’s hard to understand people that think they are super human. People actually believe they are like super heros with special skills and talents. Weird, right? Unless it’s true…
Well, ladies and gentleman, I am here to tell you that I have super powers.

 Last night, on my way to therapy, I ate leftover Pork Lo mein in the car. Yes, I ate Chinese food. So when you are driving and you are eating your little apple or taking a sip of your precious water, just remember that I am cooler and more talented than you.

Until next time,

Fat Girl Power Unlocked

The Rundown of Sesame Place

I know many of you have been waiting on the edge of your seat to hear about our time at Sesame Place.

Here are some highlights of yesterday’s adventure:

1) We left the house and before we got to the stop sign, we already heard ‘when will we get there?’

2) We took the double stroller for the sole purpose of carrying our stuff. Then the kids made us come up with a system of who was riding in the double stroller. Walk it… and while we are on this subject, why don’t I get a turn in the damn stroller?

3) Vincent asked me about the tire popping device parking lots have if you go the wrong way; I explained to him the way it works and why. He responded with an ok and then turned around and asked Joe the same damn question. When have I ever not been trustworthy?

4) Vincent and Nicholas started wrestling each other before we were even at the gate. Yup… and only one of them was in the stroller. How is that even possible? 

5) I hurt my ankle on the first ride… the one that was already broken.

6) Emily cried alllllll the way up the second ride and didn’t want to go and we made her go anyway and as soon as she got off, she wanted to go again. Thank you Emily for crying for forty-five minutes only to see that mommy and daddy were right in literally five seconds.

7) We went on the lazy river and we told Vincent to get off at the green tubes but he floated right passed all the lifeguards and went for a second trip. I tried to get him back but it was too late. So Joe followed him around again… what a hard job.

8) Nicholas couldn’t understand why the pool had to be cold on a hot day. I tried to explain it to him but he didn’t understand. Do I need a PowerPoint presentation or what?

9) Emily and Vincent wanted to go on the swings. The sign said weight limit was 221 lbs. Hmmm, I just ate lunch so it was really a crap shoot but my swing didn’t break and I didn’t die so I had that going for me. 

10) After the swings had stopped, I stood up with the swing still attached to my fat ass. If I did die on the swings, they would have had to bury me with that thing because only the jaws of life could have released me.

11) Any time the kids needed my attention they just would tap me on whatever part of my body was protruding closest to their tiny hands. My stomach, my boobs, my ass… not awkward at all.

12) My boys were still wrestling… at every line… but now they were adding a swift fist to each other’s butt. Wth… Stop being gross.

13) Nicholas made a valid point that the double tubes looked like the number eight but the single tubes looked like a donut. Listen son, you need to pick a theme- numbers or food. If we are going food- double tube = a soft pretzel; single = a donut. Numbers: double tube is an eight and the single tube is a fucking zero. Don’t mix the themes up. It’s just not right.

14) Vincent did a deck change. Except he was struggling with balance and everyone at the swings saw his little butt. I think his butt is adorable but I could see how people wouldn’t want to see it while eating their funnel cake.

15) All the rides go around… I thought I was going to die from pure nausea… at least at that point, it would have helped with my weight issue for the swings.

16) Joe really enjoyed the parade. He asked me if he could bring home Elmo. If you don’t understand number 16, then read the blog ‘Me v.s Elmo.’

17) Joe and I were able to get through the day and there was no bloodshed! Oh wait, yes there was… Nicholas and Vincent were play fighting and Nicholas pushed Vincent into a pole and knocked out his front tooth. Cool.

18) Emily passed out at dinner but I had to wake her go to the bathroom because she drank a gallon of juice. It was like taking care of a drunk friend. I was holding her hand but she ran into a door frame, a slippery when wet sign, and then I had to hold up her head while reminding her to pee. Her eyes were closed the whole time. She was sleep peeing.

19) The kids passed out in the car. I guess they couldn’t handle the day. Oh wait, I passed out too… it could have been the margarita.

20) The tooth fairy came without incident, but when she got to Vincent’s room, she forgot a shirt. Thank God her boobs didn’t slap Vincent in the head; that would have caused a lot of psychological damage if the tooth fairy dropped a boob on his forehead.

Until next time,

Another successful Sesame Place experience… filled with inner tubes, margaritas and naked tooth fairies.

My Inner Fat Girl

Being on a diet is really a struggle. It’s just not fair to be on a diet. It’s kind of like torture, like water boarding or a darkroom filled with fucking legos. Either way, society says we should be thinner and I guess doctors do too. But their expectations are beyond unreasonable; according to the BMI charts, I should be 107 lbs. I am double that because my 107 lbs is located in my bra. Soooo, yeah.

Here is some of the struggles of being a fat girl on a diet:

1) When I am trying to lose weight but my inner fat girl is fighting me and wants a corndog for breakfast…

2) When someone says ‘do you have a light?’ And all I have to do is run around because my thigh fat could start a bonfire.

3) When I am depressed- I eat. Happy- I eat. Bored- I eat. Therefore, I gain the weight of a small child.

4) I was depressed yesterday and refused to eat dinner, however, I did make an exception and had some ice cream- I’m not completely dead inside. 

5) One time, we went out for dinner and I am eating a salad… Joe, that ass, at a double cheeseburger with fries. I found out my salad was more calories than my husbands double cheeseburger and fries. Therefore, because of this finding, my anger towards my husband, is justified.

6) Hangry- It’s a word. It’s a feeling. It’s now called a weeling. Because when I am on a diet, I am eating like water chestnuts and items that taste like tree bark. Therefore, I am constantly hangry and I hate you.

7) I am not supposed to drink coffee or alcohol on a diet. Ok. The diet is now killing me. Like put me in a hole and throw some dirt on my grave because that’s fucking crazy; especially if the general public wants to live.

8) Everyone tells me to do a shake diet. Listen shake people… There will come a time that I will drink shakes. It will happen when I am old and lose all my teeth. So get out that blender and a prime rib and maybe some taters and mix that shit up. But dear God, I want a bendy straw.

9) Water. I hate water. It’s necessary I guess but I would rather just survive by the water being absorbed in my body after taking a shower. The only way I will actually drink water is in the form of ice… in my alcoholic drink… after it melts.

10) My muffin top is a rare find I guess. My daughter keeps poking it and telling me how bumpy it is and then she talks to it. Then she asks questions about why it’s lumpy and has lines on it. Then she proceedes to juggle it like she is some kind of court jester. Listen sweetheart, you are lucky mommy doesn’t follow the no coffee and no alcohol rule because I would have no idea what I would do with you. So please, stop poking it, talking to it like a pet and juggling it like you are on America’s Got Talent. 

Until next time,

Excuse me why I heat up a corndog. I made it to 11am. That’s lunch time. Don’t judge me.

It’s Early and I’m Bra-less.

I started writing this blog at 4:30 am because, like the world, I am trying to lose weight and I’m going swimming.

I have decided 4:30 am is way too early for anyone. The only thing that should be awake at that time are birds and even that is questionable.

So here I am at the pool, wondering why people do this? They say it takes thirty days to make a change… I say, ‘go f**k yourself.’ So here I am making a change… a change of no sleep. I hate the people that talk about how they love to exercise because it releases endorphins and who wouldn’t be happy about that?!

Listen. If the good Lord wanted you to be happy all the time, He would give endorphins automatically, like air. There is no need to go and stir the biological stew and make some chemical to make you happy. It’s called anti-depressants. Use them. Like the rest of us. Besides, anti-depressants don’t make you smell, sweat or wake you up at freaking 4:30 am. It’s a facade people… working out is a facade. I think people that work out are really nuts. You could be sleeping or doing something fun like an all-you-can-eat buffet. If you want real happiness, go find all you can eat lo mein or crab rangoon. Eat an eggroll for Godsakes.

And if you are one of those lucky people that needs to ‘eat because you are too skinny…’ I would personally like to punch you. Right in your mouth so it’s impossible for you to eat. And do you know why? Because you are eating because you are too skinny. I am eating because I am happy or sad or mad or glad or PMSing or because the sky is blue or black or lovely shades of orange.

So, do you know what really pissed me off about swimming at 4:30 am? The fact that I forgot a bra. When you go to a buffet, you bring yourself and they provide all the utensils and plates- a clean plate every time, might I add. But the YMCA isn’t providing me with a bra. So there I was, at what is now, 6 am walking out of the Y bra-less. I felt like people were looking at me and then I was like, ‘you know what? I am getting some extra exercise. Guy on the treadmill… I am literally playing soccer.’ Left foot and I kick my left boob… right foot… other boob and voila… I got some extra cardio. As I am walking across the parking lot, I may have shouted, ‘GOOOOOAL!’ Yeah… extra cardio for an extra early, bra-less morning.

So screw you skinny people with your skinny jeans that don’t look good no matter how small you are… and your bright, pink sweat bands, your new kicks and your sweaty, old gym bag and your gym membership that doesn’t include free bras.

Until next time,

Can someone pass me the crab rangoon and hook my bra… there’s like ten clips because my boobs are huge. They’re called ‘pectoral muscles’ bitch.

This blog is dedicated to my friend Andrea and her love for Jazzercise, crab rangoon and long walks on the beach.

Stick a Fork in Me, I’m Done.

So last night, I was getting drinks for me and Joe while we were watching a movie. Occasionally, we leave the dishwasher open so the dishes can air dry.

So there I was being a loving wife, trying to get the bottle opener, while watching tv and I backed up, backed up a little more and my cankles hit the dishwasher door and I fell on top of the dishwasher.

Yes, my giant ass broke the dishwasher door, while several forks and other silverware stabbed my ass. And I was a turtle on it’s shell, just rolling back and forth, hoping that the momentum would get me on my side. Luckily, Joe came over and helped me up.

Now, here I am, unable to properly sit on the toilet or look at the broken dishwasher without feeling bad that I broke it with my giant body.

So yes, folks, the saying- ‘Stick a fork in me, I’m done’, is not just a saying it’s my reality.

Until next time,

I am going to ice my ass and my ego… excuse me.