Better than anti-depressants! … Sort of.
Dear Lofthouse Cookie Company: thank you for adding 5lbs to my Holiday ass. It was totally worth it. Now I have to pretend I’m just going for another day at the gym and not trying to work off 800 Lofthouse Sugar cookies. I’m not worried about me though. I will be ok. It’s Amaya I’m worried about, she’s less than a year old and she’s turned into a fiend. Like a crack whore jonesing for a fix, she even shakes a little like she might seize if I withhold a bite too long. Great now my fucking kitten needs goddamn Cookie rehab!!! How much does that shit even cost?!? I already spent a fortune on cookies and now? A fortune on my gym membership and my cat’s rehab. Great.
And no, I’m not full of shit. I’ve included photographic evidence. Of my cat, not my holiday ass thankyouverymuch.
Checking for witnesses.
Taste Testing each and every freaking cookie!!
Ohhhh yeah! H.E.A.V.E.N.!!!!! Don’t mind my little nibble marks on the side of your cookie… If I let you have one at all and didn’t eated the whole thing, consider yourself lucky Ducky! QUACK!