Really. It should be against the law.
If I turn on the television and an informercial comes on? There should be this huge steel trap that snaps my hand. Repeatedly.
Because I love them. I fluffy pink glittery heart love them and often end up with their new, improved, exciting, amazing products in my home.
Yoga Booty Ballet? Why, yes. I have it. I even use it.
Leslie Sansone and her Walking Away the Pounds with patented blue balls? Got that too.
Flavowave oven? The one that you can put your frozen crap in and it comes out all nice and evenly browned? Under my sink.
Assorted butt firming, thigh rolling, stomach crunching devices? Either sold in yard sales or collecting dust under my bed, but in my possession at some point.
This weekend? I ordered Slim in 6. For I was mesmerized by the bright shiny colors and the tight, lovely abs.
Why is it that t.v. seduces me so?
I'll watch television with Jason and if an informercial or commercial for some new, exciting product comes on within the first thirty seconds I will say, "WHAT'S THE NUMBER? TELL THE NUMBER!"
He just rolls his eyes.
So, I guess I will be exercising with Slim in 6 (within only five to seven days!). I might buy products on the television but I am much to anal to not use them. At least until they hurt my back from laying on the floor rocking my butt into submission.