So as we approach the summer season of 2009...my 28th summer season in life...I find myself in an unusual situation. Muffin top. Sigh. Fuck a 6 pack..I'm working with something more like a Keg here. Just big and round and full of delicious things. I've only been this size once before. It was when I was around 19ish. I called it the freshman 38. Except the weight all got put on around my senior year of High School when my then "love of my life omg I will die without him" faux-boyfriend shipped off to the marines and left behind a sad shell of a woman. (Ps amazing how 10 years later and I still have a faux-boyfriend. You'd think by now I'd have figured out how to get a real one lol. But as usual, I digress.) So after many years of being poor and broke in NYC living off of Ramen noodles and Bodega turkey sammiches, I lost the weight and was feeling pretty good about finally being able to walk into a club without sucking in my gut. It's amazing how little your...
You didn't think death would stop me from talking your ear off did you?