Hey Kirstie!

Listen up! I've got some dieting tips for ya'!
Stop lamenting the fact that you didn't "bag" John Travolta when you had a chance. Then, get up off your fat, Hollyweird ass and take your children to the park, take a walk....FUCK! Hire someone to lift your chunky thighs in a mock exercising fashion. Least you'd be moving! And in doing so, you wouldn't have time to make those DISGUSTING commercials!

I swear to God...if I have to listen to that woman moan, orgasmicly, over a plate of chicken fettuccine, ONE MORE FREAKIN' TIME...I'm gonna PUKE.
Heyyyyy!!! There's another dieting tip! Tickle the old uvula! No...not your vulva, you nitwit. Your UVULA! That mass of flesh that dangles above your tongue. Works every single time, and costs NOTHING.

I guess what's really bothering me is the concept behind those commercials, and that the public, women in general, buy into that hype.
THERE IS NO "MAGIC PILL"! Nor will that 350 dolla a month "food plan" turn you into a size four-wearin' "stick woman".

I look damn good for my age (yea, Imma pompous biotch), so it bothers me not when my male neighbors gawk at me while I ride the ole John Deere in the nude (Ok, only SEMI-nude), but it sure does cause some major panty-waddage when it comes to their wives.
Hey! Don't go hatin' on me! Practice some discipline! Learn portion control! Stop suckin' down soda, like a Humvie sucks gas! EXERCISE!!!
Geesh.

Oh, and Kirstie, since it's appallingly apparent that no one has told you, let me be the first; it's impolite to talk with your mouth full. Come ova hea hunnie chile, so Lil Toni can dish you up a big ole plate of "Shut The Fuck Up".

Happy Sunday!