I’ve always been a major proponent of the ‘do now, ask questions later’ school of thought, so naturally 15 lbs. later I’m wondering “what the fuck happened!?” Fortunately it didn’t take me long to discover the answer, which lay in a veritable Trail of Tears consisting of bags of Haribo gummy candy leading from the front door to my bed. It looked like this wrapper, times ten, ravaged, empty, and still sticky from tears, obviously.
Turns out, these delicious gummy candies mix poorly with excessive amounts of alcohol and the occasional hopelessness that accompanies alcohol, and the result is quadra-boob and “who shoved these two fine Christmas hams down the back of my dress?!” It’s a sad day for the skinny girl, who these days happens to be hiding somewhere in my right upper thigh.