5-Year-Old Pimp Hustles Unsuspecting Marathoner

Hello All!

How is everyone? I am getting hungry. It's almost 6 pm, do you know where your next meal is? I refrain from asking this question during my PMS week. There are times I just feel like a large Blue Whale. Have you seen those? They don't have teeth like we do. They have these long bristley-looking things and when they pull back their 'lips' the suck in water and everything within suction-distance. The bristles act as a strainer when they expel the water back out, but keep the food in the mouth. That's me. Sucking everything in and spitting out the bones, gristle and whatever else managed to get in the way...wrappers, price sticker, someone's arm. Just kidding about the wrapper.
And this being the season for charity - i.e. the school fundraisers - I (buyer)forgot that I had been a charitable soul and purchased a box of Girlscout cookies for a co-worker(pusher), until yesterday when he informed me to pay up. I, much to my dismay, ordered the "All Abouts". These are shortbread cookies dipped in chocolate on one side. Damn, damn, damn. They are still in the car, unopened.
I bet none of you knew this: Girlscout cookies are possessed. When you're all alone, minding your own business and the cookies are within reach, they'll start talkin to ya. Oh yeah, they start with a whisper. "Michelle". You look around, no one there. "Michelle". Before long, you're on your knees, tears streaming down your cheeks because your hand was drawn to the box against your will. The more you resist the louder the beckoning, the greater the desire. Finally, you wrench your hand away, but now, your hand smells like shortbread and chocolate. Now, you feel dirty; how could you? You feel used and abused by those hustlin' Girlscouts, peddling a moment of pleasure in a colorful box, having you think its for a good cause and 'it'll make ya feel good' when you donate to their cause. 'Run! Run, dammit! Save yourself' is all you can think, but your feet are like lead and your stomach, interestingly, is empty and growling. 'One won't hurt, right?'
For all of you who are battling the Pimps that call themselves "Girlscouts" year after year, I feel your pain. If you or someone you know needs help, call 1-800-IVE-BIN-PMPD. Operators are standing by to take your call. Remember, you're not alone.

The above statement is solely expressed by the hunger pains of an overweight woman and in no way reflect the opinions and feelings of Blogspot or the Half-Crazy Marathon Group. Portion Control is advised.

Love you, Pam! (She's the GodMother...) He-he. Just Kidding.