Some News About My Butt

Some of you may remember when I gave up wheat for Lent and lost my butt. Well, it found its way home, and for a week or two we had a happy reunion, until it invited in the old friend it had met up with on its adventures — a set of twins, actually: The Love Handles.

Today I am wearing a pair of adorable stretchy pinstriped jeans that are suddenly so tight in the buttal region they're actually squeezing my cheeks together. And the worst part is, the love handles, or "upper butt fat" as Rachel would say, is seeping over the top. Yum. You see, this is the look I want, versus the look I am trying to avoid:

yesno.jpg

However: It seems that for me, the first look is an impossible dream.  Instead I must choose between: Option 1: A good amount middle butt fat with a disproportionately huge amount of upper butt fat, or Option 2: Not enough middle butt fat, but still plenty of upper butt fat. Which is better? I'm not sure, but I do know that today I look like ten pounds of shit in a nine-pound bag. I can barely even sit down, these jeans are so tight. Operation "Not eating wheat: No, really, I'm not — well, OK, just a bite… dang, that's a good burger, hand it over," has ceased, and once again, Operation "Not eating wheat for Jesus, because that's the only thing that works" begins.

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