Any excuse to throw on some fake eyelashes, I’ll take it. This morning I put on some huge, heavy black lashes and was batting away when Zoe said
“Aw, mama, you look just like Kim Kardashian! Sigh. I LOVE being a girl, except for when you’re pregnant.”
I don’t even know.
I’ve decided to go as Stoner Ghost this year. Period stained old flannel sheet with two holes cut for eyes, empty bag of Cheetos and a bong. Comfy and convenient.
Something terribly sad is I’ve gotten quite fat. I feel like Anna Nicole Smith when she was in her lying on the couch eating doughnuts phase.
And then one miraculous day, Anna emerged in a red bikini after binging on diet pills and cocaine. Sigh. Why must cocaine be so expensive! It’s easily a $50/ day habit at minimum. Ugh. Columbia.
So I’ve decided to do something about it and am taking ballet, eating like a tiny French bird, taking hot baths instead of dinner, and only consuming soy lattes and cocaine on the weekends. My goal is to look anorexic by mid-December, so I can celebrate my fancy birthday in a topless white bikini in Mexico, just slightly wider than my bottle of Bohemia.
…Right after I polish off this doughnut.
