The 21st was my 24th birthday, and I drank like a 18 year old. My lack of ‘blogage’ is due to a six day hangover that has just begun to pass. I haven’t been to the gym in twelve days and can’t fit into any of my roommate’s bikinis (sometimes on my days off I put on her bikinis… I’m not sure why I do this). I am beyond fat. Every time I put on a pair of shorts I feel like a whale trying to squeeze into a washing machine. As I waited for the subway on my way back from Target, I played a game called… ‘rub my ugly head and watch how many hairs fall out.’ I’m bald. During the last round I counted forty falling hairs after only two rubs. I ended the game early and spent the rest of the wait crying internally. Lately I’ve caught myself letting out a depressing sigh every time I see myself in the mirror… one similar to the noise a mellow man would make after realizing his penis has shrunk three inches. Last week they hired a new server at my job. He had a thick head of hair, a six pack and a perfectly defined jawline. After training him for his first day, I recommended to management that we terminate him. When asked why I said, “I saw him eating a chicken quesadilla out of the garbage.” The boy was a vegan… I was being a hater. Blah. I’m going to stop typing now, as I need both my hands to stuff my fat face with peanut M&M’s.
Bald and fat,