I am getting fat. The fucking Hilton buffet dinners with 40 dishes to spoon onto your plate (ok, only about 28 for me and my refusal to chew thru flesh), is to fault. And then there are fifteen desserts touchingly displayed underneath palm canopies. What is a sugar-toothed, green-scarfed person to do? Shun dessert? I don't think so.
And I'm sticking my stomach out.
No comments:
Post a Comment