Your own, Personal Jesus… er… Trainer

7 thoughts on “Your own, Personal Jesus… er… Trainer”

  1. The woman where I ordered my dress from flat-out refused to order me the size 6 after measuring my butt and reading (out loud of course) the number she found there. This was despite the fact I had tried on the sample dress in a size 6 which fit me perfectly. I had to sic Sue on her.

    Happy exercising! Perhaps someday I will have the discipline to do such a thing for myself. Right now shoes are more important 😉

  2. If they did that to you while dress shopping they will probably have a coronary after reading my number. Why is it that the salespeople who are helping you find a dress for the most important day of your life have a reputation for being so horrible? I don’t look forward to that part!

    Good luck with the personal trainer – it will be worth all the pain in the end.

  3. Yah, for the record the number is pretty surprising when you look at me. The official verdict was 34-25-40. The 40 threw everyone off. It’s pretty much all butt, very little hip involved. Yes, when I say ghetto booty I mean it.

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