How You Know You’re Having a Bad Body Image Day

Looked in the mirror.

Saw a roll of fat.

Freaked out.

Poked it.

It was a rib.

Well played, brain, well played.

 

Sometimes you need a reminder . . .

The things you see while walking around your neighborhood these days . . . Thank you, Fran Lebowitz

Humor is important, whether you spell it “humor” or “humour”

I’m a big believer in “You have to laugh about it, or else you’ll cry.” If we take ourselves seriously all the time, everything seems like such a big fucking deal.

So on a treatment centre zoo outing back in the day, I was having a pretty shitty time. Yeah, the animals were cool and stuff, but when you take a bunch of sick girls out in public and assume they’re going to act like normal people, you’re in for interesting times. So, being the shit-disturber that I am, I decided to amuse myself. Some may call it sick, twisted, black humor (or humour, if you’re a Canadian reader), but bear in mind where I was and why I was there . . . and then let me tell you that it never stopped being funny to me.

Anyhow.  I saw this sign posted everywhere in the zoo, and decided to photograph it. Once it developed, I put it on the door to my bedroom in the centre. They weren’t impressed.

Funny, right? I thought so.

Keep in mind, though: we’re allowed to laugh at ourselves, but heaven help you if you’re an outsider getting chuckles at our expense. Not okay, fuckers. (Note: you’re allowed to find this one funny, because I said it’s ok.)