Dear Muffin Top,
I hate you! What do I have to do to get rid of you? You're like a stalking loser ex that doesn't get the message. Go away! What language do I need to say it in? Yes, I'll admit that some of my habits may have made you think that it was okay to stay, but no, this is your official notice to vacate. I'm tired of having to make sure that that my jeans are just skinny enough to stick like paint to the smallest part of my ankle, yet big enough to pull up and over this unsightly mass that is you. That's right, I said it. I'm taking a stand. I want you gone and I want you gone now. ¡Váyase!
What happened to us muff? We used to be so happy together. I recall the countless nights we spent together; enjoying movie after movie, popcorn handful after handful, ice cream scoop after scoop. The good ol' days. When did you decide to turn on me? When did you grow evil horns and decide our friendship meant nothing? I took such good care of you and you still stabbed me right in the back in broad daylight. The mirror and low-rise jeans are now my enemy...thanks to you. Allez-vous en!
P.S. Of course, this means as much as I contributed to your being here I'll also have to contribute to your departure. That means exercising, curbing my appetite, taking Big Burger off of speed dial.
P.S.S. I'll leave the porch light on for you.