I'm Fat

I'm tired of being fat.

I'm hungry.

I'm tired of being hungry.

Oh, yeah, and I suppose instead of typing this, I could be exercising. I'm not. I'm tired and getting ready to go shortly.  Like in 10 minutes. It would be a waste of time to start now. So I suppose, if I could fit exercise in on top of all the other stuff I do, I would be smaller, right? Fuck you. I guess it must not mean that much to me. Right. Right. 

Oh, I can't wait to lose the weight. And then be flat chested again. Not.

"Large breasts are overrated"

Fuck you and the big tittied horse you rode in on. The only people who say that shit are the one's who have never had a man ask them "where are the tittes". I have had that happen. 

Anyhow, I am having a fucked up day.

Thanks.

Goodbye.

The White Board Chronicles, Vol 4

Sooo......what do you think happens when an ADHD child does not have his meds, but does have 20 TimBits before school?

That's right! Chaos!!!

The boy and his friends in class with TimBits

The teacher not pleased with boys hyped on sugar!

The mother in Western Michigan (see dot on map) who completely freaked out when she received the phone call regarding the events of the day!!

I'm high on sugar

Lookit this booger!

I'm high on sugar

Can't stop me now!

I'm high on sugar

Eating just the icing

I'm high on sugar

Whoa...this stuff was pricey...

I'm high on sugar

Sugar rush galore!

I'm high on sugar

Gimme gimme some more!

I'm high on sugar

But trying to sleep

I hate being high on sugar...

It's much, much too sweet

Poem Credits:  http://www.poems-and-quotes.com/funny/poems.php?id=213029

The White Board Chronicles, Vol 3

JBs  "bike note"

Please note, JBs bike is actually a Harley. Actual photo above 

Look at me go 

I'm riding a bicycle

It's so much more fun

Than that small little tricycle

I go up the driveway

And then I turn back

It isn't so hard

I think I've got the knack

The feel of the wind

On my face a quite like

Nothing compares to it

-Riding my bike

Poem courtesy of http://www.scrapbook.com/poems/doc/4664/267.html

The White Board Chronicles, Vol 2

JBs rendition of me sitting at the dining room table, using my laptop.

My hips are a desk. 
From my ears hang
chains of paper clips. 
Rubber bands form my hair. 
My breasts are wells of mimeograph ink. 
My feet bear casters. 
Buzz. Click.

(none of the poetry is mine. it all belongs to google)

The White Board Chronicles

JBs rendition of baby girl using the foot bath. 

Go to a spa to just get away.

Too bad I’m so poor –
a spa would be grand!
I’d be the happiest girl in all the land.

(none of the poetry is mine. it all belongs to google)