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)