I nearly just crapped all over my bathrobe. And by "nearly" I mean "totally". So the first two days I was worried none of these "cleanse and detox" pills were working. But judging by the commotion I just made in the bathroom, I'd say that they are. All I need is a little breathing room, and I mean that literally, in my dress. If I have it hooked in and zipped up, the best I can do is pant in shallow little breaths, like a puppy, and I'm pretty sure it will only take about 10 minutes of that before I pass out.
The good news is that even though I will be crammed in that thing like some kind of hot and spicy ground Italian meat, thanks to the high quality construction of the dress, the unknowing onlooker will have no idea that I am in the worst kind of pain and probably beginning to bleed internally. Not a single bulge or roll can be seen. I can only pray that the structural integrity of the garment holds up for the few short hours I need it to. After that, I can walk around for the rest of my life, eating turkey legs and funnel cakes at state and county fairs, packing on pounds and saying things like "I was so thin when I got married." God, I hate people who say that.
I was so tiny when I got married. God I looked amazing. Oh. I was 16. I hope your poop starts to look like really wet hay or semi soggy shredded wheat. Unfrosted. I hope you didn't shit on the "What hair to wear" style picker in the bathroom. Maybe you should cover it in saran wrap.
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