A War Zone of Botox, Silicone and Crazy…
Okay, let me preface by saying if you have ever done – or regularly have — a cosmetic procedure, I’m not calling you crazy. What you do with your body is none of my business and I’m not judging you for doing it. But the people that get too much stuff done, eek. You may have a bit of the crazy eyes.
Here’s the situation. A co-worker/friend of mine heard about a happy hour at a recently opened cosmetic surgery center in town. To get a gift card, she had to bring a friend. So she asked me. I don’t know if it was a hint or something, but I made the correct assumption that by going I was going to have some seriously hilarious stuff to blog about. I just had no idea how right I would be.
@fatroll term: WTSDS
Inspired by Jenni’s recent hilarious post, it only seemed appropriate to create a @fatroll approved phrase.
Where The Sun Don’t Shine (n.; shortened #WTSDS): refers to the area guarded by your fatroll(s) from sunlight and potential sun burn. Often, but not exclusively, located around a woman’s midriff. AKA: roll-protection.
Example:
Jenni: After tubing all day in the sun yesterday, I think I’ve got a mad case of WTSDS.
Kristine: WTSDS?
Jenni: Yeah, a case of where the sun don’t shine. Insta-roll-protection. Boom.
Learn it. love it. use it. Happy summer!
Screw You, Fat Roll
No, not the site. I’m talking about my very own Fat Roll.
I think I’ve said this before, but for those of you who have joined @fatroll late in the game, I carry most of my excess weight in my mid-section, which totally stinks. Luckily, I don’t have rolls or anything when I stand up but when most females sit down, typically there’s a little rolling action that happens.
Double take
This week, I’m spending my time in Boston, MA. After a nice 8 hour bus ride on the BoltBus (which I petition to have in Texas – free wifi + cheap bus ticket = amazing) and a brief stop in NYC, I made it to one of my favorite cities.
I absolutely love the history, the old buildings, the accents! Plus, I’m pretty sure my IQ went up just by spending time in Cambridge. My dearest and oldest friend, Stevie, is letting me crash at her fabulous pad for the weekend. And, for the first time, in what may be over three months, I weighed myself on her bathroom scale.
Weigh to fall of that wagon
I have a confession to make. (Boy, how many times have I written that on this blog).
I’ve fallen way off the wagon the past couple of weeks.
With my hectic schedule and carefree attitude, I’ve paid the price. It finally hit me this morning when it took me forever to run my normal three miles. I felt exhausted, overheated and well.. out of shape. I recognize that I exert much more effort nowadays having to walk everywhere; but, I also eat whatever I want. 
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