Okay, so. Today marks my one year Blog-iversary. Yay me!! One year of my nonsense & you guys have been along for the ride.
But that's not what I'm gonna talk about.
Because I'm too distracted by my own toxic farts. Yep, we're gonna talk about my gas.
See, TWH & I have recently started back on the South Beach Diet. We lost a crapton of weight last time so we thought we'd try it AGAIN. Since we're bordering on Colossal Fatass-dom AGAIN.
The first phase is a whole no sugar, no carbs, live on leafy greens and meat kinda thing. It totally blows and I would mug a Girl Scout if it meant I could get my hands on some cookies right about now.
However, I have almost convinced my body that Sugar Free candy is just like the real thing. Since I'm PMS'ing like a mofo, I have been hitting the Sugar Free Twizzlers like it's my JOB.
The problem is the Sugar Alcohol...
Dear Baby Jebus!! The gas those damned Twizzlers has produced could be bottled as a toxic weapon!! I'm on a Shaun of the Dead loop where I crack one off, look at TWH & say "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry" before the stench hits him. I've even run off the Little Brown Dawg and THAT little shit can clear a room with his toxic ass-gas!!
It's a telling statement that I live with all men when there's a Fart Standard isn't there??
Anyways, I'm gonna climb in bed, snuggle down under the covers, read my book for the 2.5 minutes it will take for me to begin to drift off...
And hope TWH falls asleep before I do.
Because I'll SO Dutch Oven his ass.
Yes, as a matter of fact, I DO behave like a teenage boy some days.