My dear Pageant Barbie sister was waxing eloquent this morning of her new plan for weight loss and exercise for Miss Delaware. Fabulous.
Except, I just know, deep down in my little knower, that she is going to turn into one of those pathetic scraps of a human being who is shriveled, skinny and drinks their diet coke through a straw, all the while pinching their flesh between their fingers, yelping for you to LOOK AND SEE HOW FAT THEY ARE.
Ok. That was mean. But, you can at least pray that she doesn't turn into that, because it would then force me to show my serial killer side.
Not necessarily a good thing, since I cannot aim a gun worth... anything.
I do NOT do the "look how fat I am!" thing. And you know it so STOP ACCUSING ME OF SUCH AWFULNESS. But I am going to have wicked hot abs. SO THERE.