This morning while leaving for work, I bent over to pick up my purse and my jeans ripped along my inner left thigh. You'll be surprised to know that even with my fat bubbling out of the tear to meet the cool draft in my apartment, I calmly went to my laundry basket, picked out (and by that I mean sniffed out) a pair of pants and changed into them.
Then Fattie went to the doughnut shop and bought a large chubby pastry.
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