Housten, we have a fucking problem here.

Oh my goddddd! I'm a fucking fatty.

What a super fucked up alliteration.

I'M FUCKING FAT! I NEED TO LOSE WEIGHT! PRONTO!

I was just watching Villa Wellness and all those lucky bitches lost so much fucking weight. I wish someone will knock on my door and the conversation, hopefully, will go something like this.

A: Are you Gladys Wee?
Me: Yes, can I help?
A: Congratulation! You're the winner of our weight-losing programme! We've pain-stakingly picked you from thousands of fatties. Aren't you excited!
Me: Excited?! Are you fucking kidding? Give me three minutes and I'll be ready.

Heahaheahea. Wouldn't that be great? With everything sponsored, money is no longer an issue. All it matters now is how much weight I can afford to lose and when the fuck can I lose them all!

ALL.

Oh my god I'm a fatty bom bom. I'm going to be one of those aunties who take up one whole bench on the bus and take up two seats in the MRT. And I'll dry up my savings because I need more food to fill my stomach. I'll only have three shirts and one bottom because I'm too fat and there won't be any sizes for me.

OH MY GOD I MIGHT NEED TO CUSTOM-MAKE MY CLOTHES.

Oh my god. I might get diabetes, high blood pressure and I might suffer a stroke. Like who knows. One day when I'm bingeing, I suddenly start twitching and my hands will be in an awkward postition and then I collapse on the floor with all the food in my mouth.

Oh my god. I need to start worrying about my exams. ):