Wanna Know What Gets On My Nerves????

It really gets on my nerves when people try to tell me I'm wrong when I KNOW I'm right.

It gets on my nerves even more when I go to the gym and see some skinny chick there starting at MY fat ass the whole time. Well, I'm sorry that you're good at going to the gym and you don't need to be here, and I do. You'd be staring at my FAT ass sitting at McDonald's too telling me with you dirty looks that I shouldn't be eating a 500 calorie burger or a super sized fries. You would think YOU would be happy to see MY fat ass at the gym, but oh no...Just go on trying to make me feel more stupid than I already do. So, I pose this question, what do you want from me, skinny bitch??? You don't want me to eat. You don't want me to work-out. I hope you get so fat one day you can't FIT inside a McDonald's franchise, but don't worry, when that day comes, I'll deliver your Happy Meal free of charge.... on my bike. Just like a skinny bitch would. 

Know what else gets on my nerves? Strech marks and slaggy skin! No matter how many calories I burn that will never go away. I guess I COULD go back to Cuba where self-image and consciousness are non-existent. EXCEPT, I would have to starve for a week...herein lies the problem. SEE? I'd rather go to New York or Vegas...and bask in a land of fnacy restaurants with fancier drink menus and all the breadsticks and salad that Heaven could offer. Oh, and when I say salad, I don't mean the ones that are good for you. I mean the "heart-attack-on-your-plate" type. Otherwise known as, a GOOD salad. 


What gets on my nerves above it all are ignorant customer service representatives. What a misinforming job title. Customer service representative? Do they really represent us as customers? I think not. Probably treat us at about par with the skinny chick from the gym. Like, take for instance this HYPOTHETICAL situation, with all the sarcasm one individual could summon for a single statement: "I'm sorry ma'am, but you know I can't fix your phone over the phone line". Well, excuse me, one who ought to be representing me, but I don't think it's in your job description to make me feel stupid, because I'm far from it. Now, do something worthwhile with MY time and please transfer me to your manager. You know that show Undercover Boss? Yeah, well, I suggest you watch the way you treat your clients there, bad boy.  Just because your girlfriend has you in the dog house doesn't mean I get to be punished for it. You live in India and I'm in Canada. Go pick on someone in your own country, at least! Or, get another job. 


I want more money.

Is this a weight loss blog? Possibly not. 


Goodnight. 


Feeling: Bitter