Chub

The chub-o-meter went so far in the wrong direction that it exploded and I had to remove it from the blog entirely.

I knew there was a good reason for not consuming six Ferrero Rochers after dinner every night. My jeans are so tight they have altered my gait. (Stella, that means I walk funny, before you crack a joke about me being an awkward git).

The bosoms are nicely rounded though, which is a considerable consolation.