I am not kidding.
Today I was shopping for Spring clothes at a mall in New Jersey.
I shop in stores like PacSun and Forever 21 because I dress like an annoying hipster to piss everyone off.
Also the clothes are nice and they have nice fitting jeans.
In Pacsun, I grab a pair of skinny jeans in size 3, which is my usual size, and go to the fitting room to try them on.
They did fit, but they didn't look too good on me.
I guess I have been eating too many tacos at Chipotle but I CAN CLOG MY ARTERIES IF I WANT TO.
A young black lady working at the fitting room took a look at me and said, "Hmph, well, it's time to go a size up, young lady. Gotta start counting those calories. I know it's hard, but I know from experience."
Now, I can't say I don't love women with lovely lady lumps. I can't say that at all because that is probably me in the next ten years.
However if you're packing some junk in that trunk of yours, you have no right to tell me to count my calories.
Triflin ass hoe.