I don't know.

I don't know I don't know I don't know.


It's my answer to everything lately.

Charlie, why did you eat potato chips, a huge lollipop, a Tootsie pop, a candy bar, pretzels, and a croissant today, along with the planned banana and yogurt? Why not just the banana and yogurt?

I don't know.

Charlie, why don't you get off your fat ass and go for a run?

I don't know.

Charlie, why don't you have a boyfriend, why do none of your friends like you?

I don't-- Oh.


Yes, sweetheart. It's because you're fat. And every time you shove that disgusting food in your mouth, you get even fatter. Listen to me, I'm your body. Listen to what I'm telling you. There's a reason I make you sick to your stomach when you eat junk food, there's a reason it cramps you up and gives you diarrhea. It's disgusting, isn't it? That's me attempting to show you WHAT you're putting in, because all you're putting in is crap. If you would at least put in some effort, maybe I could be convinced to drop a few of your pounds. MAYBE. But I see no effort. So maybe I'll give you a few more. That'll motivate you, huh? If you don't do exactly as I say, you'll never get to your goal weight. I don't care that you were at 154.4 this morning- IT DOESN'T MEAN YOU'RE WORKING HARD ENOUGH. You need to work harder, especially since you'll still be 154 tomorrow after all you ate today! Now go get your fat ass out for a run, then do your fucking paper that was due three weeks ago. You're such a lazy fatass, and I hate you.