Ok so remember the [s]ex convict from Pittsburgh?? He posted this picture of him and me on his facebook wall where I look like a fucking moose and of course I untagged myself because it was not cute....
Some chick friend of his commented on it "You love the fat bitches!" It kind of hit me hard but I regained composure and decided to be a lady about it and commented back "Yep, but you can't diet away ugly you fucking twat!"
I have to say though, it really lit a fire under me. Right then and there I ran and renewed my gym membership at a nice clean shiny new gym and signed up to work out with a big beefy sexy Brooklyn Italian gumba trainer twice a week. I told him "Just make me into something fuckable" he laughed, (he gets me) complied and explained to me that he's an ex marine and a football player (YUM! oop, sorry I just slid off my chair) and he's gonna be real tough on me and he's the 'boss' and he will only work with me if I’m extremely dedicated. He also said he will yell and curse which, for me, is a prerequisite with boyfriends and apparently now trainers. So tomorrow at 11am I am going to get my ass kicked in the gym by this gabagooli piece of meat. Truthfully I would rather sit on his lap and feed him lasagna than work out but that will come in time.
I'm a little nervous because this is so typical of me to just jump back in. I have a fear of failing again, but what can I do? I feel disgusting. Every time I look in the mirror I get nauseous and as much as I love waffles I hate the way I feel like this. I have been getting happier and I want my body to match my state of mind. So here I go again. I think it'll be good to have someone who's really tough on me to make me not slip up. Who knows it’s all about the journey and I’m just a small town girl livin in a lonely world.
So thank you facebook cunt! Thank you for calling to my attention that something needs to be done. And rest assured I will fuck your boyfriend and probably your father, and I’m gonna look damn good doing it!