Get to work, bitch. (probably NSFW.)


- margs

In light of the holiday spirit, I figure that if Christ could take the time to rise, the least I could do is offer us this:

Oh, hi. I'm Jamie Eason. It's okay. Go ahead and worship me.

(with special thanks to Annondog for introducing me to my new girl crush.)


All I want in this life is to have such a bite-able butt.  I mean, is that a degrading thing to say?  Because, I don’t care.  LOOK AT IT.  It’s mesmerizing.  It may be the most perfect thing that has ever existed (junior Dogwoods outstanding, natch).


Well hello!  I didn’t realize we were back on!  I’ve been super swamped with work and taking care of my kiddos who want to rip me to pieces with their NON-STOP NEEDS and I haven’t had time to check in here.  I’m at 153.5 if you can fucking believe that.  One fast and TWO bouts with food poisoning and I’m 10 pounds away from goal.  So easy.





I bought bread AND cereal today AND drank vodka AND ate ice cream.

And the ice cream had cake in it.  It was delicious.


– margs


- margo

Not much.  I’m in a new play.  In it, here are some of the things that are said about my character:

“Some fellows marry a girl when she’s little an’ tiny.  Then, when the girl gets comfortably settled down, what does she do?  Puts on flesh, of course!  When I fell in love with this baby-doll I’ve got here, she was just the same size then that you see her today.”

“That’s how I liked her: large!”

“I don’t want nothing little, not in a woman.”

“Delicate?  Me?  Oh, no.  I’m too big for that.”

“There’s a lot of you, but every bit of you is delicate.”

“You’re a big type of woman.”

Aaaaand…. curtain.



Just checking.

xo, Margs


This post is brought to you by BodyByFoodPoisoning.


Don’t be jealous, Margs.  It’s been a horrible fucking week, I assure you.  My body is now into starvation mode and eating even a cracker gives me heartburn for 8 hours.  I don’t know how to pull out of this.  I’m too weak to carry my own children.  I was at Walgreens with the babe yesterday and had to ask to sit down because her 20 pounds was too much for me to hold.  I know I need to eat but nothing tastes good; nothing even tastes like it’s supposed to taste.  I haven’t eaten a meal since Sunday.  My stomach doesn’t even growl.  I’m so confused as to whether I should force the issue and just eat or if I should wait for my body’s cues that the infection is gone and my appetite will return.

I’m never eating sushi again, that much is for sure.

Margs, I’m so sorry that your week is stressful.  Of course I’m glad you’ve lost 4 more pounds, that’s HUGE.  We can talk about BCII laters.



I’m back!  Well, I’ve been back for 6 days but I had to hit the ground running, playing catch-up with my life and haven’t had much time to myself.  How are you, Margs?  Sorry to be MIA.  Let’s get this party started, shall we?

So I’m sure you’re all dying to know that after a week of eating so-so and a weekend in NYC of eating eggs Benedict for every meal that my weight evened out at 163.  So, a cool 11 pound in 11 days, permanently gone.

I ate well yesterday and I’m eating well today, though I do have a sushi and martini happy hour to attend in 6 hours that I forgot about until just now.  I’m trying to go on long walks with my kiddos in the evening.  My jeans look pretty great.  Now I’ve got a serious 20 pounds to attack.

Let’s talk about that Bikini Challenge II, shall we?



Whatup, my divas.


Ladies, ladies, ladies.  Haven’t we  been all over this before?

Look.  I told you that I’m busy.  I got some badass motherfuckin’ shit to take care of.  It’s just the nature of being me.  Somebody has got to dole out the motherfucking mojo on this planet, right?  You’re welcome.

But you bitches?  Come on, man.  I don’t have time for all these snakes on your motherfucking plane, okay?  Kiki, I’m not really saying this to you because, clearly, you know what the fuck is what right now.  I mean, I’m not saying I’m’a condone not eating for 10 days.  But damn, girl.  You show that shit who’s boss.  Now eat your meat and take your multi-vitamin and we’ll be square, dig?

But Margo?  Bitch, please.  What the fucking fuck, lady?  This shit is not gonna FLY.  Put down the gimlet and take your fat ass to the gym.  Eat some vegetables.  Drink your water.  It’s not complicated.  It’s about growing some motherfucking WILLPOWER.  How are you gonna get your Bad Motherfucker™ body if you don’t work for it?  Why do you make me keep telling you this shit?

Kiki.  Knock some sense into this one for me.  I got shit to do.


So, one would think that when you’re at the top of an acceptable weight range for your height and then you drop 18 pounds that you could put on a bikini and head to the beach, looking fantastic.

Such is not the case after 2 babies and not working out since the summer of 2010.

I am soft, round, doughy, jiggly, lumpy, and bulging in all the wrong places.  None of my pre-pregnancy jeans fit me in the waist.  I have 13 pounds till goal which is probably more like 16 when all of this dieting balances out.

But by the looks of me, I have a very long way to go.  I look nothing like I did at Bikini Challenge I, weighing only 2 pounds less than I do right now.  That postpartum mama had been working out for at least 4 months.

I believe in my heart that this was the easy way out.  It’s less of an effort to buckle down for a week and a half than it is to make healthy choices, eat your fruits and veggies, drink your water and stay away from alcohol for the two months it would have taken to lose the same amount of weight.  I had a cold on days 2, 3 and 4.  I had severe engorgement from weaning my baby for 10 straights days.  I have to take care of my two little ones all by myself for 5 hours a day while fielding business calls and keeping the house from exploding and stressful doesn’t even begin to describe the situation and still I know I took the easy way out.

The hard work starts now.

I’m glad it’s winter.  I’m glad I get to cover up in tight jeans and a sweater in NYC next weekend.

I’m going to go do some situps now and then buy a pair of jeans that fit me.


18.5 pounds in 11 days.









(Kiki has dropped the mic and exited the stage to go juice some oranges.)


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