B is for Cookie

Work-out update:

Of the three kilos I gained after joining the gym I have lost one of them, making me only two kilos heavier than when I started. "But Brittney, don't you feel better?" "It's more important to be healthy." Like fuck. If I wanted to be healthy I'd probably start with cutting my alcohol consumption down to the double digits. I don't want to be healthy, I want to be skinny. Like, heroin-addict-with-a-coke-problem skinny. Tapeworms-and-an-eating-disorder skinny. Haven't-had-a-full-meal-since-'93 skinny.

This grand scheme is clearly not going as well as planned, a fact that was made blatantly obvious as I tried to buy a bathing suit this past weekend. I was in the E-Mart, with no less than two bug eyed employees hovering mere milimetres away as I was trying to figure out how the bathing suits worked. I'm no dummy, but when a bathing suit contains between three and five pieces I need a minute to take it all in. Everything comes wtih shorts or a skirt or a shirt or a dress or a wrap or all of the above to go overtop of the actual bathing suit parts. I figured this was a pretty good option for the current state of my thighs, until one of the unblinking attendants says, "These are beekeenee. Maybe you...sundress?" I'm thinking, sundress? tf? I don't want a dress I'm clearly looking for a bathing suit, but my eyes follow her outstretched finger anyway to the rack of dresses...made out of bathing suit material. They looked like skating dresses, only longer and more depressing, less sequins and more sadness. I moved immediatly to the grocery section where the import cheese section never judges.

And becuase I missed this yesterday...
Love Song to Canada - Jason Collett


et pour les quebcoise, bon fete du jour de demanagement! enjoy scavenging on the streets for other's people's garbage...i mean treasures.