The Perils of a Post-Partum Princess

My dad wants to burn his house down, my sister drove into a pole, but all I can worry about is my belly fat. They have those commercials on tv where the belly fat gets targeted by a charlitan pill whereby the virtual human shrinks. Should I partake in this madness? What's so mad about it anyhow? At least I'm not trying to destroy a house or a car. Just a belly that doesn't need to be big anymore. I use that cocoa butter shit. Butter buns? Maybe they should change the name to cocoa six packs. Then it might actually work.

My belly pouch peril tortures me day in and day out. I do sit ups, crazy ab twists, pilates, the grab-a-handful-of-belly-and-imagine-it-gone, and various other techniques to try to rid myself of this unneeded flesh and fat. I've even tried the stick-it-out-and-memorize-it-so-when-you-see-it-normally-it-looks-ok. Should I just stop eating? I wonder what that technique/mental illness is called... Should I fake a hernia and try to get a doctor to open me up and suck it out? Dion would never agree to real cosmetic surgery, but I probably do have insurance to cover a fake exploratory hernia operation. While Dion works very hard to bulk up, I am trying to bulk down. What would Jesus do? (if he was husky)...

In the meantime I will help my sister get her car fixed and help my dad to not burn things. Funny enough, the company my dad works for is trimming the fat. If only he knew how lucky he is.

do you know the chub muffin? (me)

mega tear down wha?

Dion linked me to a blog with pictures of computer chips in it. It was so beautiful and incomprehensible that I was inspired to try take over the world with blow up dolls. That is, dolls that blow up in the explosion sense. I will put faces of my ex-boyfriends on them (I'm sure somebody somewhere appreciates this joke).

I found myself in need of some extra petty cash to carry out my Take-Over-World scheme, as I had not budgeted for it this week. So, I had to go to work today. I didn't much enjoy leaving Simon to play in the Baby Safety Hut with the Banana Friends, but I suspect he had a jolly good and safe time (lots of colorful soft blunt surfaces, mushed bananas, and music). He was asleep when I picked him up so I haven't had a chance to ask him how much fun he had on a scale of 1 to 10 (he holds up his fingers until he can figure out how to speak more clearly).

I am upheld as one of the premier brain scan readers in the area and thus whenever I am in need of work, I can put in some much-needed hours. Today I read about twenty brain scans, and most of them were relatively normal. I find the male brains easier to interpret because there aren't as many parts to it, and many less shades of gray to decipher. The female brains are slightly more difficult, as there are hidden departments and lots of interesting synapses in the temporal lobe and the limbic system. I cannot speak specifically about the readings on specific brains (HIPAA and all of that), but one anonymous brain befuddled me when I couldn't find any of the ganglions capable of thinking. It's possible I was reading a scan on a very dull muppet.

I hope you will wish me luck with the blowing up of the dolls. Most likely, Dion will help me when he gets home-- we have between now and the Soup in Bowl Games of Deliciousness to figure out world domination.