Dear Food:

You tricksy, evil bee-otch, I have found a way to conquer you. You know that I love you and eat too much of you. You have been winning the DC battle and have forced me up a pants-size. Well, no longer. I have your number. I am going to eat something disgusting and moldy, which will accomplish my goal in not one, but TWO amazing ways:

1. I will get really sick and vomit for 2 days and lose 7 pounds
2. I will get really sicked out by the thought of you and therefore get over my obsession and never want you anymore except for survival

Bon appetit...bitch,
b