I just had my third chocolate croissant in less than 24 hours! I am starting to worry about the existence of my pair of abs. Yes, I have only one pair…
I love love croissants. No. I LOVE croissants! Here is a secret, one of my favorite pastimes is staring at abs and wishing I could feel them.
The other afternoon, I spent my lunch break staring at web images of guys with abs; wondering and asking the Good Lord why none of my male friends is gifted with these gems. I was so engrossed in my hobby I didn’t hear my workmate walk in on me. He went, ‘Pssst! I have better abs than that clown! It’s just that I’m protecting mine from thirsty bitches like you!’
I’m a fitness buff, relatively new to the #FitFam. My prayer is that I don’t get so neurotic about it, although I feel the signs and symptoms. I want to have abs of steel by Easter Weekend, set off metal detectors and stuff 😀
My friends say it’ll be so tragic if I end up with a pot-bellied guy. You know how love can be blind (plus they tend to drive BMWs. I don’t understand the correlation between the two).
That would be a nightmare; him and I lounging on our yacht. I’m browsing through the Women’s Health magazine, occasionally admiring my nails (and my abs) when I look up and suddenly, his huge pot belly is all up in my personal space!
*Shudders and shakes off image*