I have something very disheartening to tell you all. Sit down, you're going to be shocked.
I went to the doctor and she told me....that I need to lose weight. I wanted to say, "No shit, Sherlock. Tell me something I don't already know." But, I didn't. I maintained my composure, smiled and said, "I'll try."
This weight thing is such a universal pain in the ass....virtually every body's ass....By the way, if you don't need to lose any weight, shut the computer off. You are not worthy to read my blog (just kidding).
I just don't understand how I am expected to eat "right", exercise regularly, and be the stick figure that my doctor wants me to be when OPRAH WINFREY can't even do it with all of the help that money can buy.
I'm not picking on Oprah, here. I get it. I understand exactly where she is coming from.
It is 12:00am. The dogs are asleep at the foot of Oprah's bed. Stedman is snoring his head off. Consuela, the housekeeper, has gone home for the night. Oprah is reading by lamp light when she suddenly feels the urge for a snack. She quietly heads downstairs for a peek in the fridge and remembers that she supposedly has a THYROID problem. She probably thinks to herself, "Well, since I have a thyroid problem, I'm going to keep gaining weight no matter what I eat. Screw the carrot sticks! Where the hell are the Devil Dogs?"
Hmmm....Does anyone else think it's a funny coincidence that Devil Dogs are named after Satan?