I’m standing there in the middle of my closet, doing a little bit of re-organizing. When out of the corner of my eye I see Them.

There they are….. the size two jeans. They are hanging there just mocking me, in their singsongy voice:
“You can’t get us on! We’re a size two, you are not. You’ve got more junk in your trunk than J-Lo!”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I seized the mocking jeans and litterly jumped into them.
Big Mistake. Stooooopid Big Mistake.

See… I baked myself a little bit too well yesterday in the Bronzing bed. Needless to say tight jeans (Are there any other kind?) are not a smart choice for at least 48 – 72 hours.

I have a good feeling that I could have easily gotten them zipped up. But I was too busy cursing, and hopping around, getting out of those bastardly mocking jeans to have cared at the moment.

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