Well I have. But of course.
Some people I know got married on Saturday morning. I was both honoured & humbled to be asked to sing at their wedding ceremony. Friday eve they had their rehearsal which I had to attend so I knew where to stand when I got all Mariah up in here. It was at 5pm which is the time of day that I am so hungry I would skin, BBQ, & eat someones baby. So instead I ate some breath mints I had in my handbag. Desperate times! I convinced myself they would keep the ravenous hunger at bay for 45 minutes until I was free to leave the rehearsal.
In my wedding rehearsal boredom I read the mint storage vesicle & noticed the small print 'Excessive Consumption Causes Laxative Effect'. Ok cool. I'ma gon test this out & make sure they aren't lying to their consumers. Because one thing I hate more than being hungry, is people who lie about their product potentially making me excrete like an angry erupting volcano. So I ate 10 mints in a row. Badass I know.
Fast forward an hour later, after just finishing my dinner, my guts starts doing weird gurgling I'm gona shit myself kinda noises. And I run, like sprint to the lav where I just make it in time before I explode like a burst water mains. It made such a horrendous noise that it shook the walls of our tiny apartment. And I swore a loud & groany MUTHHHHHHHAAAAAAFUCKER as the laxative took effect on my bowels.
Blake says I should get this hoody. It can be my poo sweatshirt.
I nearly died last on Friday night. 3 times. I lost about 5kg & spent more time in the bathroom than any other room in my house. Blake thought it was funny & disgusting & insisted I had a shower before getting into our bed in case I spread some of my angry fecal dust on our clean sheets. Not even brother love!!
He should know by now that I am very particular post poo cleaner & ALWAYS make sure no excess has been left on my undercarriage. Hence why I use baby wipes. So fresh!
I am also a Leo. Cats are famous for having the cleanest assholes in the universe. Except for my nieces cat Pixie. She normally has fecal remnants dangling from her back end every time she trys to up on me. And she gets all confused as to why I commit minor animal abuse by way of kicking when she gets all up in my business sticking her puckered cathole in my face. Hello Pixie?!! Your ass needs a cleaning!! Sort it out yo!!!!
I also do a 2 point bowl clean check. That would be checking the underside of the seat for stray splatters & making sure the bowl is skid free. It's a sign of respect for my husband & his auto-retch shit phobia. I only wish the men I work with would show the same sign of respect for me. This is never going to happen. But a bitch can only live in hope.
In summary, it seems that yes, when over consuming Eclipse breath mints as advised on the tin, you will indeed get yourself a mad dose of the runny bum lava. I don't recommend trying this yourself. I have done it for you (my pleasure) & can now confirm that the aren't bullshitting when they write that stuff.
This sugar free business is mean. We fattys stay clear of sugar laden things because it makes our bums fatter, & instead go for sugar free options. Sugar free options that make us shit our pants when we eat too much of it. Either way it's a bad fucking time.
Speaking of fat bums, I had my second personal training session with Mike someone today. I didn't feel like he was trying to kill me. In fact, I enjoyed it. Firstly he had me lay down in the gym mat on my back then hump the shit out of the air above me while he held a giant rubber band around my knees. It was weird & awesome & I wasn't even uncomfortable about how close he was to my sweaty bagina.
After that he got me on the leg press again. Easier than last week, shit yes!! Then he had me lay upside down on my front where I basically had to kick my own ass with my heels. This was weird & I commented on how I felt like I was waiting for a rectal examination because my gigantor ass was sticking right on up there a happy moon. He laughed. Loudly. I laughed too. Which made my bum flaps wobble. Which made us both laugh some more. It seems Mike someone can handle my funny. And my wobbly ass. He finds it entertaining.
We also talked about my goals. As well as the obvious weight loss & getting fit mish he's helping me with, I also told him that my ultimate goal is to kick a door off it's hinges. Once I can kick the fuck out of a door without breaking my femur, I know I've achieved greatness.
Til that day comes, I vow to keep on humping the air, kicking my own ass & laughing at my wobbly bits flopping around the place like they've dropped an E & are hey ho-ing it at a Ministry of Sound rave.
Has anyone ever tested the excessive consumption warning? Or am I just stupid on my own?