And I know you also remember the photo I posted of myself right under the photo of Helen Mirren that had my stomach just spilling out all kinds of ways from my pants, right?
Well... the other day I passed by the only mirror in my apartment and thought, "hmmm, I wonder if I'm any closer to that Mirren bitch yet?" and took some pictures to compare.
Now by NO MEANS WHATSOEVER am I up to her level of GOD DAMN just yet, but thank you White Jesus I no longer look like this:
And instead am on my way:
Why should I care, you ask? Listen here, heifers, because I'm only going to say this once. How can I, in good conscious, expect- no, DEMAND- that my Mr. Right have a body to die for if I'm over here jiggling in all the wrong places? It's just basic courtesy- bring to the table the very same thing if not more of what you expect to get back.
That is all.
*smooches...hoping for the motivation to finish getting into shape*
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will it happen in 2009? eh... maybe in 2010...
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