Oh, darling. That weekend choo just had does NOT work for choo at aaaaaall. De constant snacking, dos empty calories, all dat al-kee-hall. Choo look like choo are retaining more water than The Little Dutch Boy.
Yes, choo need a makeover. No, I’m not talking about make-up and clothing (do choo think I’m a miracle worker, after all?). No, I’m talking about ALL THAT.
Choo know: dat junk in de trunk. Dat riddle around jewr middle. All dat jazz… and by "jazz" I mean jewr big fat ass.
It is summer, my overstuffed lovely, and it’s time for choo to eat lots and lots of fresh fruits and veggies. Choo know… blueberries and cherries and tomatoes and choo know what I’m talkin’ about.
If somebody’s sayin’ “Would choo like fries with that?”, choo are NOT doin’ what I’m telling you choo should be doin’.
And choo know what else choo should not be doin’? Choo should NOT be not exercising. Sweat is chur friend. Sweat will help choo move your furniture when choo change apartments. Sweat will lend you fifty dollars ‘til payday. Sweat will pick you up at the airport when chur bitch-ass sister won’t get her lazy bitch-ass self out of her trailer.
Choo can do this losing weight, okay? All it takes is everything choo have every single day. Choo have to want it more than a Kardashian wanting her picture snapped at a Hollywood party.
It’s time to rock the bloat, baby (did choo like that because I made it up myself and I’m thinkin’ of making myself some t-shirts and selling them on the internets).