The road to a fat ass is paved with good intentions

So yeah, I had every intention of capitalizing on my momentum and posting the next installment in the Schnegg saga...but apparently cookies were more important. 36 dozen cookies to be exact.

Okay, so it's not really 36 dozen. (At least I hope it's not). But it's a lot of freaking cookies, people. Enough that I'm not going to go count them anyway.

At this point I'm just praising the Gods that the Pinterest invites people keep trying to send me aren't

coming through...because then it probably would be 36 dozen - or my ass would weigh 36 tons.

Mom, I totally blame you. I was just fine with my popsicles (which are like 3 calories each because they're frozen freaking water) until you made those chocolate chip cookies for Christmas. So when they have to bring the crane and lift me out of my bed via the window?? Yeah, that's all on you.

And in case anyone is noticing a theme?...yes, I'm 33 years old and everything is still my mother's fault.