Balloon Lady

I was a bit jumpy when I went to bed last night because ‘dog’ is in the country having a run around with boyfriends dogs so am all alone right now. I had locked all the doors and double checked them all before heading to bed but was still a bit out of sorts.

Finally, I fell asleep and woke a few hours later to the strangest feeling on my finger. I wear a ring on my left hand and it felt like someone was trying to steal it! OMG I was so scared. I had images of a robber person standing over me trying to get this ring of my fat little finger.

Then I realised it didn’t feel like someone pulling it off but more like pushing on it. I decided now that a rat was trying to eat my finger and has probably mistaken it for a small sausage! Where Is My Dog When I Need Him??

I snapped my hand away from robber/rat and turned the lamp on. There was nothing anywhere. Not a person or rat or even little fly.

You know what happened? In my sleep I must have gotten even fatter because my ring was squeezing my finger and it was so uncomfortable that it had woken me up!

Once I had soaped up my hand and arm, I finally got the ring off my finger and wondered if I should admit myself to the emergency department because yes, I am fat but is it possible to get even fatter in your sleep. The ring on my finger certainly wasn’t uncomfortable before I went to bed.  I was concerned but thought about what I would say to the emergency department?

• I woke up fatter… or
• Help, I’m a balloon! Pop Me!

So I decided to not bother with the emergency department and went back to bed, ringless but yes, checked those door locks again for safety.

Turns out, I am not a balloon at all. Auntie Flo came to visit and it is because of her that my fingers ballooned up. Even the best locks on the door don’t stop Auntie Flo visiting. Blugh

LBL v's BBS (It's all about wee)

I thought I had found the answer to walking fast therefore burning more calories therefore increasing the chances of waking up skinny quicker!

I had finished work the other afternoon and said to a colleague that I wasn’t going to go to the toilet before leaving work that night because I figured it would make me walk my 2.5 kilometres home quicker. Are you agreeing with me right now? It makes sense hey because I would need to walk faster to get home even if I was too tired because I would need the toilet.

Well, this worked very well to start with because I already needed to go to the loo. I was grinning away to myself for this very clever invention of mine and almost smirking at other fatties walking home at a slow pace because they didn’t know of my cleverness.

Then it happened. Half way home and the ‘wanting to go to the toilet’ became ‘NEEDing to go to the toilet’. My bladder was now full to the top and needed emptying and I was what seemed like miles and miles from my house. And no, there were no public toilets near me at this stage.

My brisk walk now developed a bit of a hip swing to it as I tried to keep everything in the bladder and not have an early release! The discomfort was horrible and the only thing on my mind was my house. My front door, my toilet!

Then I started thinking about those new ad’s on television advertising this LBL thing which stands for Light Bladder Leakage. Now this is all well and good to have pads for this but do they have them for BBS? That stands for Big Bladder Squirts. What if you don’t have a little delicate bladder that leaks gently? What if it is a big one that gushes out instead of leaks? Yeah, they didn’t think of that when they were marketing this and this LBL could well be a cause for a discrimination case from those with big bladders.

You know how when you are hungry right, and peoples faces look like a delicious hamburger or lamb roast? Well park benches and even small shrubs started to look like shiny white toilets! It was getting near impossible and I was trying to think of everything BUT toilets but they were flashing before my eyes.

Finally, I turned the corner to my street and saw my gate! Oh the joy! You know what I am talking about don’t you? As I got the key out to open my gate, I realise I had ‘relaxed’ a little and almost left my bladder deposit right there on the street!

By now I was in a mad panic and raced through the gate and got to the front door fiddling around for the correct key, keeping everything as tight as can be and raced through the house not even grunting a hello at my dog, and made it to the bathroom.

My neighbours were all probably very envious of the sexy time I was having due to the groans of pleasure not knowing it was only a wee hehe. That was one of the most amazing wee wee’s I have ever had in my life. The joy and sensation of having that wee made me cherish toilets all that bit more.

I wont be using this technique again and I don’t recommend it to anyone. 

Holding the Gas

Firstly, I shall apologise to Boyfriend for any offence taken.

Moving on….

I was walking home from work all red faced and puffing like a woman in labour when I noticed Mr Hunky. He was all of 18 years old, very tall and oh so lovely to look at and that made my walk home very pleasant.

Along came a bit of a shortcut across a park and yes, I took it. He didn’t. I sped up a bit now because there was nothing lovely to look at on my walk and it was then I realised, he didn’t take the shortcut but the long way and was now behind me!

OMG! Do you know what the meant?

It meant, I couldn’t fart on the way home and I had built up an extremely large amount of gas throughout my work day!

Now, I became to despise Mr Hunky boy because there was so much gas built up and he was on the section on my walk home where I always release.

Thankfully, he disappeared (I did wonder if I had let one go accidently and he evaporated in a cloud of dust) and when I finally let go, it was like a little jet engine powering me on toward home just that little bit quicker J

That is all

Oh, one more thing, am visiting Skinny Chick tomorrow (my dietician). Wish me luck because I have lost no weight. I had the flu damn it. 

Bumsters

So, remember last time how I wore out my fat jeans from my thighs being best friends? Well, I went and bought a new pair and because I am still fat, I figured I would just get the cheapest size fat jeans. There is no use trying these jeans on because I am not going to be looking at my fat ass in the mirror to see if I look sensational.

Today I put these jeans on and realised that half of them are missing. Where the hell is the top part of my jeans? Yes yes yes, they are elastic waist but they are BUMSTERS!

Who on earth designed these things? Very few people look great in hipsters let alone a fat chick in bumsters! I almost injured myself by pulling them up to high not realising the stop short. It is still a little tender ‘down there’!

So to all the fat clothes designers, here are some of my suggestions for you to follow

1. a pouch to put the stomach into attached to a pair of jeans
2. we DO NOT want fitted t-shirts that stop just above the waist
3. skinny jeans are for skinny people, just be honest and call them fat jeans
4. we DO NOT need G-Strings because our normal knickers become G-Strings
5. double lining needed between the thighs to stop holes from rubbing together
6. no leggings should be available to anyone bigger than a size 6
7. sexy lingerie? Are you kidding? Not necessary thanks
8. if you need padded push up bras being a size fat, you are not fat enough
9. sports singlet and shorts? We Are Fat! Do you think we need these?
10. winter coats. We have enough blubber to keep us warm, coats not needed

that is all

The Beast

Argh! I have become one of ‘them’!

You know who I am talking about. The ones who make a change in their lives and then decide everyone is worse off for not following their leads. The newly non smokers, the sudden gym goers and the new dieters. Yep, I am the new dieter.

I am constantly looking at peoples shopping trolleys, their lunch choices, what they’re having for breakfast and I shake my head until my chins all do a jiggle dance.

My desk buddy who we will call ‘C’ eats absolutely terribly but what annoys me the most, she doesn’t put on any weight. I watch her eat her ham and cheese toasted croissants for breakfast (a little bit of drool escapes my mouth every time she eats this), she will then follow with her morning tea of a little chocolate treat of some sort (she does try to hide this from me), lunch can range from a nice healthy salad or vegetables to a home made chicken schnitzel roll made by her boyfriend or a nice pasta dish left over from last night. Through out the rest of the day will be coke and maybe another chocolate or lolly. The whole time I am counting my calories and eating tuna out of the tin but watching her the whole time imagining it is me eating this wonderful food.

And then, I become the ‘beast’ and lecture her on what she is eating and the calories and so forth. Thankfully she nods her head as though she is taking it all in and humours me and it isn’t until I stop flapping my gums that I realise what has happened to me! And what’s worse is I am still fat AND lecturing people on what they should and shouldn’t eat.

I honestly can’t help it though. I wonder if I do it through pure jealousy or because I honestly believe there shouldn’t be that much sugar, oil, salt and fat in ones diet. Who the hell am I kidding? It is only jealousy. I want to eat that food and I want to drink that stuff.

Now that I have to monitor all of my food intake and my food out-take (that means poo’s) I find myself monitoring everyones intake and out-take. I even explained to my desk buddy one day that she was late in doing her poops for the day because she normally goes at 3pm. Yes, I even know when she poops.

I need a new hobby I think.