Today on My issues, and how they’re always the same, I’m reminded of this really profound poem I wrote in high school after the first time I saw Silence of the Lambs that began ‘who made me this fleshy santa suit, and why am I forced to wear it?’ I don’t know if it’s being in LA, or seasonal self-loathing, but for the first time ever, IN MY LIFE, yesterday, I thought to my self, maybe I should get my thighs Lipo suctioned. I considered this for about three seconds and then immediately punched myself in the face and got some ice cream. But seriously, they’re kinda fat.

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