The young new goddess of the silver screen and I have so much in common that I half expect her to show up on my doorstep any second now. She has hair, I have hair. She speaks English, I speak English. And if that wasn’t enough we were both subjects of “The Fappening*”. Oh sorry, that was a spelling error, I only experienced “The Fattening” this past year.
That was my way of saying Erasmus and Jeremiah my food babies that I made out of gummy worms and sitting on my butt, are still here. I feel a bit like the mother from the Roald Dahl novel “Matilda” whom the author describes as being encased in a layer of fat. That’s me; I’m wobbling, wibbling, and jiggling my way through life. I don’t even have winter to blame any more, even up here in the frigid, remote North, the snow has been gone for weeks. I mean admittedly it is still the North so if you hunted around a particularly shady tree, one could still build a wicked snowman, but I don’t think that counts.
At the very least I can content myself knowing that JLaw has occasionally been considered heavy by Hollywood standards. Perhaps we can bond over kale sundaes or whatever it is that movie stars eat after taking a belly busting class together. Or snack on algae and wheat germ crackers while power walking our way through a hiking trail. I can see it- this is going to happen. Perhaps I shall hang onto my extra weight a while longer just in case so Ms. Lawrence and I can get rid of it together.
I know you have no idea what “The Fappening” is. It’s because you aren’t a teenage boy. For Pete’s sake don’t Google it though. I imagine the search would turn up pages and pages of men with their tongues and various other parts out. Suffice to say my good friend Jennifer may have lost some racy photos to the wilds of the internet.