Online shopping trip to Old Navy to buy two pairs of new “flirt cut” pants: $35.50 

Discovering I lost no weight during the great Olestra incident of 2008: disappointing

Yummy Girl Scout Cookies on break room table at work: FREE!!!

Trying on new pants to discover they call attention to my second ass and squeeze the fat around my middle thereby creating the dreaded “muffin top”: Priceless 

But at our house, you sadly cannot get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant.

Meet Alice, my not-so-mini-Mini Schnauzer.

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Cute as she is, Alice has a bit of a weight issue. She’s never met a Snausage she didn’t like.

At her last vet appointment, the doctor said she’s at least 3lbs overweight. I gasped, covered her ears, and hissed, “She’s not fat. She’s just fluffy!” He remained unconvinced. Whatever. Fine. So I’ve put her on reduced calorie doggie food which I can only imagine must taste like the bottom of an empty pizza box. I also take her for a 30 minute walk around the neighborhood at least a couple of times a week. We both look longingly at the ice cream store at the corner where we would usually stop in for a Frosty Paws and a small chocolate soft serve (it’s for the kid! I swear it!).

She seems to be recovering some of her girlish figure, but I’m having some ethical issues. I know it’s not healthy for her to be fat and all, but the poor creature follows me around the house with a look on her face that says “I’m hungry, mother.” I toss her a carrot, a piece of celery or a chewey, but she just looks down at it, shifts her weight from paw to paw, and looks back up at me like she gets the joke but doesn’t think it’s funny. Her inner fat girl demands cookies! I can relate! It sucks when people won’t give you cookies!

So, how do I explain the concept of a diet to a creature whose intellectual pursuits include nosing through the trash and growling at her own butt?

Does anyone have the phone number for the Dyson people? Actually, it could be any vacuum cleaner company, it doesn’t really matter which one.

I need the advertising department please.

I’ve got an idea for a Super Bowl commercial. Check it out:

Picture your average American living room with a vacuum cleaner parked in the middle of it.

A person approaches the vacuum, turns it on, and extends the wand to vacuum the drapes. The vacuum sucks in the drapes, the room, the house, and then the entire universe leaving the bewildered person and the vacuum alone in white space.

And the tag line reads: “Dyson. We totally suck.”

Freaking brilliant, right?

Advertising genius wasted in the back room of a library.

Warning: embarassing and personal, yet valuable consumer alert.

From this moment on, it shall be known as The Olestra Incident of 2008.

There I was this morning, minding my own business when a little gas slipped out. Normally this would not be a noteworthy event, but this was special. It was…juicy. “Huh” I thought to myself, “that’s odd.” And then I checked.

It was oil.

OIL!!!!

FROM MY BUTT!!!

Naturally, I was completely horrified as my husband laughed hysterically at me. I’ve heard of this happening to people, I’ve even joked about it from time to time, but I never imagined it could happen to me!! I traced it back to the 1/2 can of Light Pringles cooked in Olestra I consumed at lunch yesterday which in restrospect turns out to have been a very bad idea. I should have listened to my husband when he told me to cool it with the chips. Now I cannot leave the house because the only thing worse than sharting at home is sharting at The Home Depot.

I’ve learned that when it comes to chips, you can either eat the regular ones and have a fat ass, or eat the Olestra chips and have an oily one.

I think I’ll just have pickles on the side next time.

Behold!

It’s the new Dyson DC 18.

Fully loaded.

Corners like it’s on rails.

Quiet as a kitten.

If you have the means, I highly recommend picking one up.

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It’ll rock your world, bee-atch.