Well, it’s become apparent to me that these skinny bitches need to keep eating. Oh sure, I may have my quips and quarrels and infinite battles with chocolate, cookies, and/or cupcakes, but these super skinny bitches NEED to stop digesting dust particles and oxygen as their daily BLD (Breakfast, lunch and dinner).
While everyone is saying, “OH DAMN Girl, you are so skinny. You look so good, oh look, oh look at them legs, and that hair and your arms, oh girl you are hot.” You know what I’m saying? “I’m not going to gain or lose A SINGLE POUND. NOPE." I’m just going sit and buy my time because ONE DAY everyone is going to say behind her BACK “Ohhh have you seen blahblahblah on facebook? Looks like girlfriend got into the Twinkie factory and decided to not come out for seven years. WHERE’S THE CREME FILLING? No big deal."
Do you know what they will say about me? “Heather LOOK’S exactly the same! Look at her go.” AND YOU KNOW what I did? I just wasn’t a skinny bitch when everyone else was….that’s the plan bitches and I’m sticking to it. I’m staying the same while everyone else can ride on that rolllllercoaster of hating themselves and yoyofreakingdieting. Ok yeah, I go the gym often, BUT I’ll never be a skinny bitch. Nope, I’m good. I’m on the STAY THE SAME FOR-EV-ER diet. Eventually, I’ll be the skinny bitch by default. Win.
However, If someone wanted to sabotage my epic plan for normalcy and throwing-off the typical status quo for the mom’s of Amurica and stuff road I’m driving on, well, let’s just fast-track my impending diabetes now. The three S’s of H-Lo’s death consist of Sugar, Some more Sugar, and So much Sugar I’M GONNA DIE. I welcome this death with open arms. I don’t know what it is or how my sweet tooth has been devastatingly triggered but someone should just stick me with an IV needle and pump the sweet sweet nectar directly into my veins.
THEN the type 2 diabetes will kick-in WELL before my time and instead of sabotaging my plan you’ll do me one better. I’ll be a miserable wreck, on suicide watch, and dreaming about cake for the rest of my life BUT, I won’t be able to eat it(ohhh heyyyy suga free get on mah level) increasing my chances of normalcy and staying the same FOR-EV-ER, yet another WIN.
Another way you skinny bitches could really mess with my expertly thought-out plan is by staying a skinny bitch. NOT OK. However, I feel that most skinny bitches want to have families and houses and people and stuff. In which case, at some point THEY will not be a skinny bitch…..only for nine months at a time BUT in those NINE months I’ll be the winner. I’ll be there encouraging you to eat as much as you want, as you can, and convincing you that you are going to have a second or third surprise lingering in your combustible belly and that you might as well eat for 4 just in case.
Again, no big deal just another WIN. Good try Skinny bitches, good try.
People come and go. We change and rearrange everything in our lives as time progresses but it’s a fact of life that Skinny Bitches will NEVER be skinny bitches for-ev-er. They might just be bitches…and well, that sucks.
I, however, will STAY THE SAME FOR-EV-ER (within reason). I mean I know when I creep-up that ladder of experience, years and wisdom, I’m going to have bigger ears, smaller feet, a hump on my back, and I will become an incredible shrinking woman. My Mom was 5’7”/ 5’6” for the majority of her adult life. We have been the same height for several years, but HOW TALL IS MOM NOW? Mom is 5’3”, SHE’S 5’3! That’s like 3-4 inches…..GONE. CYA! She’ll never know what the view is like any more. It’s a rough life, I know it, believe me I do. But I’m telling you I’ve got this whole thing worked-out Skinny Bitches: 0, Heather: any number greater than zero.
Win.
