Dunkin' DoNOTS

So, thus far my dieting ploy to intimidate my fat ass and thighs into retreat by threatening to swaddle them in nothing but spandex and/or saran wrap has failed miserably.

But let’s be real, I suck at intimidation. Kind of like Bambi trying to mug someone, “No, I will not give you my wallet, you cute, little deer. Now come here and lemme pet you! You‘re so freakin’ cute!”

So I came up with a new dechunking plan. Any time I want to eat something, I ask myself “WWGD?” What would Gisele do? Crisp lettuce? Gisele says yes! A half gallon of double chocolate fudge brownie ice cream? Gisele says noooo! Put down the spoon and back away slowly.

Then I ogle a picture of her 5 foot 11 inch Brazilian goddessey goodness and mentally photo shop my head onto her body...my thinspiration.