This Fatass Needs To Lose Weight, and...

If you guessed that the fatass is me, you are correct. I told you that I don't sugarcoat about myself. I'm a foodie who's gaining a double chin; and while there's nothing wrong with being a foodie, there is something wrong with emotional eating, thinking about committing suicide again, and even being tempted to go out there and get pregnant just so that I can get all the love and attention that my cousin got at her baby shower (let alone all the love and attention that she gets, anyway. She again, though, comes from  FAIRLY-GOOD HOME AND HAS HAD ALL THE PRIVILEGES IN THE WORLD COMPARED TO ME.).

That someone has had all the privileges in the world compared to me sets them up for more privileges at least in this lifetime, though, is always the case. I even get shattered dreams or otherwise bad with the good. I'm not my cousin or a Krystal Keith who gets to have her cake and eat it, too; though I inadvertently ended up getting followers for Krystal on Twitter when I couldn't even get people to like my own Facebook page (in part, though I shouldn't be talking about them, thanks to bullies like Steve and Cathy Dallwig who indeed despise the poor and won't even reach out to help them; but for when they can reach out only to bully the poor when the poor rebuke them for not reaching out to them.).

What mazel! I get hatzlacha of being the fulfillment of this:

The poor man is hated even by his own neighbor,
But the rich has many friends.


Even many of my own "friends" hate me (And don't you lie. I know that you do and just want to not admit that you hate me.). At least if I lose some weight, though; maybe even become a little underweight as I was at one time again, I'll at least be loved for my skinniness-- and I'll have a reason to be a foodie again.