Yesterday we had a BBQ at Boom Boom and Depeche Mode’s house. Jersey Belle, Oingo Boingo (Jersey Belle’s husband), Phashionista and the future Mr. Phasionista all came over to help us drink our weight in booze and inhale some hamburgers. For us chicks the conversation turned to what it typically turns to: our fat asses. We decided that it was time for us all to drop some pounds.
Boom Boom brought out her fancy ass scale and we all took a turn getting weighed, having our BMI checked, and getting our body age. Our ages range from 31 to 37. Our average body age, according to this evil scale made by the devil, is 58 years old. Um…are we really such fat asses that our body age is that old? God, that made me want to kill myself.
Between the six of us, we weigh more than half a ton. 1, 226 pounds to be exact. That’s a lot of fucking weight for six people. With Phasionista’s wedding in Mexico looming in exactly four months, you can probably see why we’re all freaking out that we weigh about the same as an elephant. That’s really bad.
So, we raised our booze filled glasses over the giant bowl of fatty potato chips and made a pact: everyone is going to lose some weight…or face the consequences, and they’re bad ones.
Everyone has decided that they need to lose at least 15 pounds. The incentive? If we don’t, then we have to have our picture taken in a bikini and each one of us will feature it as our facebook profile picture for three days. Do you have any idea how humiliating the possiblity of strangers and friends and Office Adonis staring at my fat gut and thighs is? Yeah, it’s bad. And so, dear people, Boom Boom and I are hitting the gym today.
If you thought Operation Muffin Top(ple) last year was something, you have no idea what you have in store with Mexi Melt.