Skinnyfat. What does that even mean. Ugh, seriously!
I can’t believe he called me skinnyfat. That chauvinistic, simple-minded, basic, prurient jerk! It’s bad enough I have to work with him at the office, the last thing I want is to talk to him at the gym.
Besides, it’s not like I enjoy going to the gym in the first place. I’m only here because I know that people judge you based on first impressions and if I’m gunning for that promotion I need to look the part.
So far I’ve lost 20 lbs, so I’m pretty sure I don’t need any help — especially not from a jerk like him. And I most certainly don’t need any special workout powder or whatever the hell it was he was rambling about.
Seriously. Skinnyfat? What the fuck!
Seriously. What the fuck. Check. Me. Out!
That powder is ah-mah-zing!
I look uh-maize-ing.
I’ve got abs! So long skinnyfat – hello skinny bitch!
Even my hair looks great.
And look at my shorties! I mean, I remember back in high school when all those dumb popular girls would walk around with their shorts all rolled up like this and I thought it was… like… you know… lame or slutty or whatever.
But now I totally get why they did it.
Unf! I look good!
Just one problem. I’m almost all out of the powder. I mean, I know I look pretty good, but I think I just need a little more so I’m perfect for that promotion interview.
Ugh, I’ve just gotta talk to Mr. Jerk and see if he’ll lend me some more. I just hope he doesn’t, like, stare at me like some perv or whatevs.
So if you’re going to stare at me like some perv I might as well start charging by the hour.
Kidding! Seriously, you don’t have to be some jerk about it.
But anyways, thanks for the powder. I just need a little more before my interview. Ya know, I’ve gotta prepare my notes, go over questions they might ask, find a professional outfit, slam in a more gym sessions, and…
Relax? How can I relax at a time like this? I can relax once I nail that promotion, Mister Work Jerk. Then I’ll be your boss and then you’ll be fucking my ass.
I mean kissing my ass! Kissing it!
Maybe I do need to relax.
OK, I don’t know how you convinced me to go out on the night before my interview, but I think you might be onto something. A drink or two is exactly what I need to calm my nerves.
And maybe I’ll find some boy toy to spend my big fat paycheck on when I finally get my promotion. Those dumb popular girls can’t have all the fun, now can they?
*slurp* *suck* *unf*
I bet you always wanted to get your dick sucked by one of the popular girls, right?
Tell me… tell me I’m a dumb popular girl.
Say that you jerk off to me after homeroom. … that…. that you want to shoot your jizz on my little PE shorties.
Oh I’m so going to get that promotion tomorrow.
So I didn’t get the promotion.
They didn’t like that I showed up late.
And that I was hungover.
And that I was still wearing my outfit from last night
Screw them, who cares. The gym is way more fun anyways.
Work is lame and I’d much rather be a hottie than some skinnyfat supervisor or whatever.
Ugh, but I do need get a paycheck one way or another. Rent is due soon.
Hey Mister Jerk, thanks for letting me move in with you.
This shirt? Oh still can’t take a joke, huh? It’s not like they had one that said Trophy Roommate With Benefits.
Besides, I don’t hear you complaining when I clean your apartment all day and have dinner ready for you when you come home and then fuck like horny teenagers all night.
You don’t mind, do you daddy?
By the way, we’re almost out of powder.