I can't move. I can't bloody move. I hate this. I can't even get up to go to the loo without getting winded. My arms are like summer sausages. I'm fat again. I can't stand this, I just can't.
Smegging hell, I am SO pregnant. And it's not even a full four months yet. You should see my gut, man, I look like my Uncle Frank after a seventeen course meal of donuts and beer. FATTY FATTY FAT FAT FATTY
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