I Had A Fatty Moment

I gave in to temptation. I had a cheeseburger. I used to eat them all the time. Now, it’s a rarity. Anywho, I totally have PMS and was all "FEED ME SEYMORE! FEED ME!" Ok fine! I had tater tots too.

As soon as I ate it, I felt relief. That craving had lingered like that nerdy guy to whom you politely said "hi." I had missed that feeling of tasting fatty, salty goodness….of immediate satisfaction….of being bad.

What I didn’t miss, and will never miss, is the self-imposed shame of eating the forbidden fruit and ;guilt of not standing up to my own inner saboteur.

I brushed and brushed my teeth, but I can still taste the sin in my mouth.

I scrubbed my hands, but I ;can still smell the gluttony on my hands. ; ;

I did not put these on my MFP diary….yet. I’m not ready to admit I just ate that many calories in one sitting. I went ahead and fessed up to my real life friends and family. Of course they’re all, it’s ok, don’t do it again, and you have to work out tonight.




I kid you not, this was the Q & A on my sister’s crossword puzzle.


I was such a lil turd

To my older sister. I’m sorry S and I called you a big, fat buffalo. You were neither big, nor fat, nor a buffalo. I’d love for you to, once again, call me a skinny string bean.

To my dad: I’m sorry that when I was like 8 years-old I put on all the play make-up my little heart could and made you take me to the store looking like that. I am so embarrassed for myself. I did, as you pointed out, look like a mix between a dying clown and a hooker. Thanks for taking me anyway and for not saying “I told you so” when people stared at me.

To my sisters. I’m sorry I insisted on picking brussel sprouts as my vegetable of choice for EVERY time I got to pick that night’s vegetables. I did it b/c I knew you hated them and I didn’t mind them. I’m pretty sure y’all did that with squash and lima beans. I farking hated those. I still hate lima beans.

Random lady at the grocery store: I’m sorry, that when I was a cashier and you were in my checkout lane, I slammed your chips to the end. I did it b/c I was 1) a hot headed teen and 2) you had more than 10 things in your basket and I was cashiering the express lane. I’m also sorry that when you said, “Hey! Don’t crush those! I have to eat them!” I replied with, “You don’t need to.” I was kind of an a** to you.

Dear mom: I’m sorry my sisters and I incessantly bugged you during the 6 hour drive to Granny and Pop’s house. I’m pretty sure we were as bearable as a root canal with no pain meds. It was mostly S & K’s fault….and not at all mine. Thanks for listening to us sing, on repeat (ad nauseum) every Whitney Houston, Paula Abdule, NKOTB, and Bon Jovi song we could barely remember the words to. Sorry we told you to shut up every time you sang in the car.

Dear Festus the wiener dog: Sorry my sisters and I led you through contraption after contraption with the false promise of cheese. Bless your yappy little heart. There was never any cheese. As smart as you were, you fell for it every time. You were a good dog. Thanks for sharing your kibble with us….even if it caused mom to freak the frick out.

Dear Shadow-Pounce De’Leon-Shade-zee-babe the cat: Sorry my sisters and I insisted on dressing you up, putting make-up on you, and doing your hair. I totally understand why you ran like a shart every time you saw one of us. Despite your numerous, vicious attacks (for which I totally deserved and still have scars) you were a good cat and a great dance partner.

To Sereesha in middle school: I’m sorry I put that note in your locker that said you smell. I mean, you did smell. But, I had to retort for you making fun of my hair. Even though I did, as you stated, have a lump in the middle of my hair. Especially when your hair was crazy big and had lumps too. We really should’ve been nicer to others.

Dear Really Old Blind man that walked into the glass wall: I’m REALLY sorry I laughed so hard I almost peed myself when you walked into the glass wall, fell down, got back up, and walked into it again. It had been a really long day at work. I’m glad the guard steered you in the right direction….eventually. I guess…I don’t know, I was hiding behind the teller line so you couldn’t see me laughing…even though you’re blind…

Dear sweet baby girl LC: This is a preemptive apology. I’m sorry that when you are a teen I will take every chance I get to tell people about the time, when you were three and I was drying you off, after your bath. You pointed to your nipples and said, “These are the boobies I not have yet.” It was, by far, one of the cutest things you’ve ever done.

oh. my. gawd.

Somebody pissed off the make-up artist, the costume director, and the photographer.

I’m embarrassed for the platinum blondes, but I’m mostly embarassed for the pink poofs I’ve labeled duck-face-3-chins and her offspring look-at-my-squishy-face.

If you want to prance around and have your picture taken, in what has to be the worst costume choice for you and your child ever, by all means, go for it. However, there’s no excuse for making the duck face and encouraging your child to pose like a “gangsta.” Those poses are sooooo 2010. Neither is very flattering.

Disclaimer: my own insecurities cause me to be judgmental and embarrassed for overweight people. I know. I’m working on that.

I try not to be judgmental. I really do.  I’m new to online dating.  I don’t pretend to know all the ins and outs of online dating.  I think I can offer some tips.

Don’t be a twatwaffle.  If you don’t have a picture on here, I can’t tell if you are as hideous as your statement.


This only tells me that it's AAAALLLL about you. NEXT!

There’s no need to spazz-out over an intro paragraph.  Seriously, take a chill pill.  And, this isn’t a text message. Use entire words.  Why are you cursing at me? We haven’t even met. How can you easy dose it with out appropriate grammar?


Whoa! Easy there nelly! It's just a paragraph. What's up with "Survey snowcones in FL"? NEXT!

Don’t admit this is your X number of times on the website.  It’s just sad. It only tells me you might jump in a little too quick.


Good luck with your bussiness....whatever that is....:( NEXT

There is such a thing as being too specific. Also, you should be sure of your own name.


Is this because you have these names tattooed on you and you can only afford to get one covered or removed?

Maybe they aren’t acknowledging you because you’ve managed to simultaneously turn them off from sex and pizza.


The last thing I find sexual is greasy cheese.

Do you know how I know you are not a genius?  Well, it’s because you can’t write a sentence, you use “i” for “I,” you spelled philosophy wrong, “it’s” not “its” means “it is,” and there should be shame in “publc” displays of affection.


Only, about 3% of the world's population qualify as geniuses. You, I'm sorry to say, are not in that 3%.

Do you see the button, on your keyboard, that has a light shining on it?  Yes? Then press it, so the light turns off.  Thank you .


Great....now Stop In The Name of Love is stuck in my head...



I need to be able to understand what you are trying to tell me.


I don't know any beatifull women, but I'm pretty sure they should be specific about the kind of body they are willing to share. Who is Ian? And, why is he not talking about the beauty on the outside?

There is sooooo much wrong here…..


What are banana fruts?

Just don’t get anything on me.


I guess I don't have the good morals for which you are looking.

What. The. Fuck.


The only thing that's weird around you is you.


The most important rule, use spellcheck!

Ok. I did it. I opened an account on an online dating site. I am new to the whole online meeting people thing. I don’t pretend to be savvy at it. I fill out the info, answer the assessment questions, press submit and cross my fingers.


The site keeps suggesting morons and fat (and I mean morbidly obese), bald 40+ year-olds keep “winking” and emailing me.

The. Fuck.

Then there was this guy

Photobucket Pictures, Images and Photos

Cat Faqs

My friend shared some cat faq’s with me.  I thought I’d add my input to these “Facts.” If cursing offends you, skip those words. Or, don’t read this email….because there are many not nice words.

Cats hate the water because their fur does not insulate well when it’s wet. 

That would explain why my cats act like I’m killing them because I give them a bath.  I don’t care if they’re self-cleaning.  Spit is not an acceptable form of clean in my house. Also, it cuts down the number of times I sneeze in a day.

Just like fingerprints, ever cat’s nose pad is different.

I’m going to start nose printing and dusting for nose prints now.  I hope they enjoyed their free ride of breaking things and looking like the innocent one.  Now, I will know.  The nose knows.

The first cat in space was a French cat name Felicette (A.K.A. “Astrocat”), in 1963.  France blasted the cat into outer space.  Electrodes implanted in her brain sent neurological signals back to Earth.  She survived the trip.

Well oo-lala.  Considering mine freak the fuck out when they ride in the car, imagine being the astronaut in charge of that trip.  By the time he got home, he was probably meowing at himself.  I bet he’s a dog person now.

Cats can make over 100 vocal sounds.  Dogs only have 10.

Yes, yes they can.  Mine never shut up.  They have a meow for “Shit! I’m in a car!”, “My automatic feeding trough is half-full. Please, oh please fill it RIGHT NOW!”, “I know you’re doing something important, but I want to put my butt in your face, so I’m letting you know, I’m about to put my butt in your face.” And “Is that breakable? Oooo….yeah…it seems it is.” You get my point. My cats are total assholes.

My dog on the other hand only cares about, playing with me, walking with me, sleeping, eating, alerting me to a leaf blowing, and using the bathroom.

When cats are happy or pleased they squeeze their eyes shut.

I fail to see how this is scientifically ascertainable.  No seriously. My cats’ eyes are shut 90% of the day.  Can we really be sure it’s from being scratched on the head and not because they’ve been awake for an entire, exhausting, minute and need a nap from all the energy they excerpted stretching and yawning?

A cat’s brain is biologically more similar to a human brain than it is to a dog’s.  Both humans and cats have identical regions in their brains that are responsible for emotions.

This explains so much about my cats…and me. We’re all a bunch of basketcases.

A group of cats is called a “clowder.”

Sorry, say that a little clowder.  I couldn’t hear you over the incessant meowing of this group of cats.

Cat’s are North America’s most popular pet. There are 73 million cats compared to 63 million dogs.  Over 30% of North American households have a cat.

I suspect this is because people are lazy and cats are self-cleaning and don’t require walks.  I’m just throwing that out there.  You don’t even have to teach cats tricks.  They are too good for your stupid tricks.  They’re like better than that shit.

Cats sleep 16-18 hours a day.

I’m pretty sure mine sleep 22 hours a day.  They spend 30 minutes pooping, 30 minutes eating, 30 minutes harassing each other and another 30 minutes seeing which one can meow at me the most and climb on me.

When cats are asleep they are still alert to incoming stimuli.  If you poke the tail of a sleeping cat it will respond accordingly.

Yeah, by slicing you open with their razor-sharp claws you moron.  Do you like to be poked while you are sleeping? You deserve it.

A cat can travel at a top speed of approximately 31 mph over a short distance.

This cannot be right.  My cats move slower than a half-dead sloth. Then again, there are those times they suddenly wind up right by my foot.  You know, when they are carrying out their secret plot to kill me and make me spill my human food.  Trust me, these fat cats need more food like a third-world kid needs a fly swatter. They have a FEEDING TROUGH.  Nuff. Said.

A female cat is called a Queen or a Molly.

1)    A queen? Do NOT let my female cats know this. They have big enough egos.

2)    Snicker snicker…I know a girl named Molly

The term “puss” is the root of the principal word for “cat” in the Romanian term pisica and the root of the secondary words in Lithuanian (puz) and Low German puus.  Some scholars suggest that “puss” could be imitative of the hissing sound used to get a cat’s attention.

TLDR.  I skipped to the last part. Those scholars are stupid.

A cat’s hearing is better than a dog’s.  A cat can hear high-frequency sounds up to two octave higher than a human.

I know mine can hear a can open from a mile away.  I also know they can hear me when I tell them to move and they don’t because gawd forbid they get out of my way when I’m walking or doing some kind of chore. I bet they have secret cameras in the house just so when I’m at work they can replay the latest incident of me tripping over one of them.  Note to self, find hidden cat cameras.

Approximately 40,000 people are bitten by cats in the US, annually.

It’s probably b/c some asshole poked them while they were asleep.

A cat can jump five times it’s own height in a single bound.

Not my fat ass cats.  They can barely jump on the bed.  Sometimes they don’t even make it all the way up and they have to climb and wiggle their fat butts up their. I’d help them, but I’m busy laughing at their “FAIL.” Sometimes, they just meow a me until I pick them up and put them on the bed.  Lazy ass cats.

A cat rubs against people, not just to be affectionate but to also mark out it’s territory with the scent glands around it’s face, paws, and butt.

Awesome.  My cats love me so much they wipe their funk on me.  Gross.  I’m going to start farting in their faces and putting their heads in my armpit after I exercise. Let’s see how they like it.  Hey, cat, come here I have a Christmas present for you, yeah smell this! Maybe I should wear a face mask, since they’ll want to scratch my face off.  And some gloves…because those lil’ fuckers bite.

Most cats give birth to a litter of between one and nine kittens.  The largest known litter ever produced was 19 kittens, of which 15 survived.

See octo-mom, you’re not that special.  You’re a cat.

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