Ohhhh my tummy.

Figaro and I have been eating like pigs. I don't want to go on about my personal life or anything, but I will say this: it's fucking glorious to be with a man who treats you like MacGyver because you've figured out all you need to make Italian hot chocolate is a double boiler, some cream, chocolate and a whisk. The only good thing about his departure this Sunday is that I can pick up with my more ascetic lifestyle that makes my ass look so much cuter. By which I mean smaller. He doesn't seem to mind it's expanding visibly. Good.