Eat All The Things

Does anyone else get nauseated when they are hungry?  I swear that is the reason I’m so fat.  Well that and my habit of eating cake for breakfast.

But seriously, when I let my tank run to empty I fight the dry heaves.  It is a truly awful feeling.  So I avoid it by stuffing my face all day long so I am never hungry, ever!

That does the trick, but it has nasty side effects of its own like not fitting into my fat jeans.  Luckily way in the back of my closet I have my morbidly obese jeans, so I’m rescued from the embarrassment of a trip to the “Oops! You’re So Fat You Need A Special Store-Store”.

I suppose I should try to eat a bunch of leafy greens and water chestnuts to stave off hunger instead of the usual chips and chocolate.  But alas, I don’t want to be skinny THAT bad.

Time Is Up

In light of recent allegations brought to the forefront of our attention I feel I must admit I have a dusnfuctional relationship with my cats.  It could even be categorized as abusive.  I love those fur balls so much and they hate me.  I pet them; they scratch me.  I kiss them on top of their little fuzzy heads; they turn around and hiss showing me a mouth full of stabby teeth.  I pick them up to snuggle them, and I am lucky to survive the clawing squirms.

Yet the cats demand food twice daily on a prompt schedule as chosen by the cats themselves, water fresh from the tap of a dripping sink on demand, and pristine litter box related janitorial services from me.  Should I slack off in any of the above areas I receive repercussions such as but not limited to:




-Crapping on the floor

-Pissing on my bed

-Pawing at my bedroom door incessantly during the night

-Pawing on me incessantly and meowing in my face with their stinky cat breath

Sadly, I know I am not the only person to experience this shit from their cats.  The cats’ time is up, let us all stand together in unity.  #MeowToo


Here you see the cats in their native habitat.  It is clearly a rough life.  Please note the cat in the foreground is on her own personal heating pad.


I have an obsession with using things up.  It gives me incredible joy to use all of something.  It may be the meiser in me, but I feel like I get my money’s worth and that makes me so fucking proud.  Screw you world; I got what I paid for!

I use the same item like a pen, a notebook, a lipstick, a bottle of lotion exclusively until it is all used up.  There is no pen hopping for me.  I am a one pen at a time kind of lady.  I stick with that pen until the bitter end.  Should I lose it or find someone else using it all hell breaks lose!

My habit is neurotic because even if I discover I fucking hate the lipstick shade after a couple of uses I refuse to quit it.  I will use that shitty lipstick color up wether it’s ugly or not.

I have gone through entire bottles of lotion scented with the most disgusting blend of juniper and ode de car exhaust because I am not a quitter!  Semi-orgasmic joy envelopes me when I hit bottom.  Then when an item has been fully consumed I have a ceremonial throwing away of the blessed container and an anointing of the next in line.  It’s my own freaky little “use-it up” cult.  And I love it!