shot of sass, served on (n)ice

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Am I Starting A Camp Fire? No. It's Just My Thighs

This is what happens when your brain says Don't Go to McDonald's, Chubby! but then your very, very hungry stomach comes crashing up your esophagus at 90 mph, cruises through your sinus and whips the shit out of your brain. Continuously. It doesn't help that these pants have long since been my faves so I thigh rub, rub, rub in them ALL THE TIME.

Now look at what I've done! And yes, there is a worn spot on the other thigh too. We're equal opportunity over here.

And now y'all owe my at least 10 bucks for the scandalous inner thigh shot. Or something. (I'm pretty sure Miss Thystle is rubbing off on me, what with the gratuitous shots and all.)

3 tips left at the bar:

Andria said...

Girl, we have missed you and your scandal around the bar!

But, let me assure you, that tiny "hole" is nothing compared to some I've managed over the years.

penelope said...

Megan, are you SURE that worn spot is from McD's? Come on, be honest. What ELSE have you been doing on your lunch breaks, hmmmm?


sheila said...

Megan, those have to be Levi's. Because I have had the same affliction. I blame it on McDonald's & Chick-Fil-A, and their evil, evil ways. And poor workmanship on behalf of Levi Strauss & Company.

It has absolutely NOTHING to do with my lack of self-control!