In our office kitchen we regularly have little goodies that staff bring in for everyone to share, like bagels and donuts and other yummy badness (especially around holidays or now that Girl Scout cookies are back)...and everybody shares a little nibble or two here and there and amicably and halfheartedly complain about having to go to the gym to pay off THAT transgression in fortitude. You know, the usual. All is well.
Ah-ha but NOW...SOMEONE has put a fucking scale in the kitchen! How cruel is that? Look at the cookies!! Look at the scale....COOKIES...SCALE...damn them. Can't we fatten ourselves in peace? And after a little investigation, it appears the culprit is a lady, one of those stick-thin-verging-on-anorexic-but-still-managing-to-have-big-boobs-great-hair-and-tan Newport Beachophites. Like she can't look perfect and not have to gloat over the rest of us about it.
Grumble, grumble. Well, I'll just go sulk with my tea and cookies.