Love the Dipshit You’re With

I remember what it is I like about Weight Watchers – eating regular food. I don’t like a diet where you are restricted from certain foods, say Premium Ice Cream.

Really, people, low-fat ice cream tastes like shit except for the rare low-fat ice cream.

Oh sure, I have to make sure I’ve got points to spare at the end of the day so I can have my little bitty cup of Ben & Jerry’s. But people! It’s Ben & Jerry’s! Worth what little amount I get of it.

Now that I’m back onto my old Weight Watchers on-line account, I looked back at my weight history and it was 6 years ago when I was 35 pounds lighter than I am today. I gained 35 pounds in 6 years!

Mooooooo!

I was 10 pounds from my original goal, having never met it. I remember at the time that I figured I didn’t need to be on the program anymore and that was the beginning of the Growth of a Torso. And Chin Chin Chin.

This time, mothertrucker, I am going to reach that damn goal if it kills me. Which makes no sense seeing as how I’m trying to stop from killing myself via diabetics or heart attack. But hey, whatever it takes me to reach that damn goal.

Did I mention how crazy life is these days?

First, my mom has a car accident and is home, without a car, for a few weeks (thank you jeezus).

Secondly, my sister’s neighbor decided to burn a little brush behind his house and almost burned the entire neighborhood down. Pyromaniac asshat.

Thirdly, a very dear & sweet & close family member’s husband decided that he didn’t love her anymore and buh-bye, I want out. No counseling. No consideration for the small children. His penis lies elsewhere, apparently.  Where is that penis-popping voodoo doll of mine. I just used it a couple of weeks ago. It  must be around here somewhere. What the hell? You let a person be a part of your family and then they rip out a heart and stomp all over it.

Here’s a life lesson for you…If you’re married and you think you might have feelings for someone else? Get some damn counseling and figure out why it is that you continue to have conversations with bad people. Talk to a counselor, not the chippy at the front desk. Or at the 7-11 or wherever it is you find yourself talking intimately to someone who’s not your spouse. Because, really, you are attracted to an immoral asshat who would willingly steal somebody’s husband and dad. No better than a common criminal, if you ask me. You can walk away from that shit. Really. You can. If you have feelings for any yahoo down the street, another dipshit will come along for you to have feelings for. So don’t be whining about “but I couldn’t help myself. I FELLLLLLL head over heels!!”  No you didn’t. You kept coming back for more ego stroking and the old sales pitch some person lacking in character gave you. You like that kind of crap? You need help. Now, back away from my family and go  hook up with some tramp, you don’t deserve anyone from my family.

Damn.

I believe it’s important to love the dipshit you’re with.

Oops. Sorry Ricky Nugget. You’re not a dipshit. Most of the time.

Now all I ask for this week, is a kinder/gentler week. Without accidents, fires and infidelity. Thank you.