Hi! Everybody! Here's me after lots of rolling around on the floor and grunting! Aren't I preeeety?

Okay, so yeah, not so much. But like every other food loving American, I could stand to shed a couple of pounds... or dozens, but who's counting besides me and my scale? So, since I'm boring and poor and spend a lot of time in my house alone, shivering and crying out for an amuse bouche, I decided that maybe it's time to move the fat ass around a bit, in hopes of something happening. Something like, I become a stunningly slvet shiksa. So far... yeah, not so much.

I've had this workout video for a while, and I had remembered that I liked it that weekend in '02 when I last promised to do something about said ass's heft. So, I popped this in. And, I pretty much hate all of these people. Ellen (that's her over there) she's pretty cool. I mean, it's not like we're gonna be hanging out any time soon, but I can deal. She's generally helpful and says things that are encouraging like, "Ooo! Feel that stretch!" and "Alright now! We're super warm, so really go for it!" Hey thanks, Ellen. I will. And then I will pull something out of wack that hasn't been moved in this current century and I'm limping for a week. But I did it! Yay me, right?

It's these other hos that I've got my problems with. First off, who in the hell invited Tracy? Tracy is apparently this post-op MTF tranny that just whizzed in from Dusseldorf, judging by her ridiculous french braided pony-tails, rigidly defined muscles and chizzeled Adam's apple. This is the bitch that someone picked to be the one to modify the exercises for the fatties that haven't climbed a set of stairs without getting winded in eons? HER!! She could totally kick Arnie's Swarzy ass and she's going to take it easy on this work out. Thanks a lot TRACY!

And then, I don't know when Tara Reid decided working out was her thing and maybe she did go off to the bar immediately after finishing this workout, but dayum she can do a standing Pilates imprint. She's all in the back, looking stupid, but every so often then show her skinny ribs sticking out all over the place, proturing out under the fake boobs. It's amazing that they don't pop those things.

Why don't they show the kind of frumpy girl in the back doing her thang. She looks cool, like we could hang. But no, they'll go from a wide shot of everybody noticably NOT sweating or breathing hard to this alien lookin' dude they've got in the backgroung banging away like a chimp on bongos. He's gray. I have no idea what nationality results in a gray skin pigment, but there he is with his choppy L.A. in the 90's hair cut and bright blonde highlights. I don't want to look at him! He's not doing anything! I don't want to have to follow along with Man Hands and I really don't want to have buy anything in the Plus department... start shopping at full name stores like Elizabeth or Catherine's.

So, I keep going. Sweat, flail, roll around on the floor and curse my house keeping skills and pray for it all to be over very soon.

I am so totally buff.