If you're just tuning in–and you know how I say that all the time, and I'm sort of being facetious? Yeah. The Nester mentioned me in her blog yesterday and I got like 11,000 visitors in one afternoon. So I'd like to think that SOMEONE stuck around from that. I mean, you throw a bunch of spaghetti on the wall, some of it's bound to stick, right? If it's wet.
I do not know why out of all the examples in the world I had to pick spaghetti on the wall.
ANYWAY, if you're just tuning in, I get migraines. They call us Migraineurs, and doesn't that just make you want to slap me silly? Migraineurs. It sounds like I should be half goat, half headache or something. So, as a MIGRAINEUR, I was prescribed a drug to make my migraines happen less often, and that drug is called Topamax.
See? Just saying it? It's like when you've broken up with someone and you hear their name after a few years, and your heart sort of flutters. Oh, Topamax.
Topamax not only got rid of my migraines, made me a Mirgra-not. A Migra-nyet. A Migra-never. It not only did that, but it made me thin! Thin thin thin! I totally, completely didn't care if I never ate another bite again. I got down to a size six, which I know was considered fat in The Devil Wears Prada, but for me it was like being Olive Oyl. Or that annoying stylist who has her own reality show. What's her name? Anyway, you always see her in Star now, with all her rib cage showing and rickets and growing fur and stuff.
The problem is, it also made me dumb as a stump. I really couldn't, you know, think. Which is kind of an issue, as you usually need thoughts to get through your day. I could make an obvious joke about that stylist again, but I'll abstain.
So my doctor said I had to quit Topamax. Because I couldn't go around being this stupid.
It's been about two weeks now, living without my great love Topamax. I've driven past his house a couple times, ON MY WAY TO ARBY'S DRIVE-THRU.
Guess what came back? Could it be my appetite? Did it come back with a vengeance? Am I gonna need my Totie Fields dress back soon?
The other day at work the power went out, which was exciting and I thought maybe we'd get sent home for the day, but anyway I couldn't microwave the lunch I brought. So naturally I went to McDonald's.
When I got back to work the power was on, so you know what I did? I microwaved my lunch. Even though I'd already HAD lunch. A BAD lunch.
Oh, I am doomed.
Has anyone tried eating a tapeworm? I'd be willing to give that a try. What if the whole time I'm at work I jog in place? Will that make me look insane? Insaner than eating two lunches in one day? I've had all these weight fluctuations at work; they're gonna think I'm Chandler Bing.
That's all I have to say about that. I miss you so bad, Topamax. I didn't care that I was stupid, just everyone around me did. They were JEALOUS, Topamax. Jealous of our love, and of my hot body. We were like Brangelina, hot and in love. We were Topajune. Junemax. And now I'm maxed-out June.
I will close with the obligatory Henry picture, so you will all leave me alone to eat in peace.
Fortunately he was right here next to me as I type. Probably wondering why mom is getting so big. He has a little scritch on his nose from tormenting some household pet or another. And speaking of our animals…
What are these two Bozos plotting?
(Oh. And don't forget to vote for me for hungriest blogger. Click on the red "Funniest" bar and search for 150 years for Bye Bye, Pie, because they keep moving my name around the page. Irritating.)