Bumblebea123
Active member
Here’s a brief synopsis of tonight’s little offering ... as usual, I’ve tried to be kind 
To begin with, we see guess what ... the car! Chins and bean are flying along, the wind in her hair. I’m mourning the comb-over and thinking how much fun it would have been to see it flopping and whopping about in the breeze. There’s cheesy music, lots of smiling, it’s all kinda romantic. Then we catch a glimpse of the bean’s gut and I’m jolted back to reality with a thud. It’s big. It’s really big. It’s quite obvious that the calorie counting has gone to pot. I feel sorry for the engine of that poor little beast, struggling along those country roads. Too many soreen loaves; too many moun’iiin chips. TOO MUCH FOOD.
Still, janeykins has put on her makeup and made a bit of an effort. It makes a nice change seeing her all dolled up. There is something of the Rapunzel about her hair and she has a wicked glint in her eye; the knowing glint of a multi-national bizniss woman. She’s bought this car. She’s done it all by herself. The perfumes, they have delivered and she’s showing us the fwuits of her labour. Except there is no fwuit of course. There is just ice cream (but we will come to that later). For now, there is a slow-mo shot of the beautiful car. It’s so cringy, I want to vom. Then there’s a worse sight; it’s the bean, also in slow-mo, standing by the car (yes, for once, they have got out of the bloody car!) in his boohoo MAN cycling shorts. They don’t say ‘man’ on them, but they’re instantly recognisable of course. They are now, more so then ever, winning the prize for the tightest thing to come out of Eastbourne, since Janey herself (who thinks that £1.60 is ‘really expensive’ for a jar of mayo).
Back into the kitchen, where we find ourselves confronted by an unusual sight; Janeykins in an off-the-shoulder number. It’s probably so baggy, that it’s fallen off, anyhow, it makes a nice change from those nighties. Anything would.
There follows much ado about nothing as she searches high and low in the cupboards and the fridge, for stuff to cook. It’s impossible at this point, not to be struck by the derrière and the gut, both of which threaten to eclipse everything else in sight. The kitchen’s not huge, but Janeykins certainly is. Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to have a sallid. But no, she has other more fat-laden plans.
Then there’s a wonderful little ode to sweet potatoes. She’s cooked some and then coughs all over them ... . She’s going to put them in the fridge and eat them ... cold. She’s seen someone on Instagram do it. She’s tried to turn them into Mars bars by caremelisin’ them but sadly, they still look potatoey. She then tells us that there’s (once again) been ‘so much goin’ on’. She’s been so busy, but then that’s ‘working for yourself’. What?!! Does she think she’s the CEO of FM Cult? Eeek, I fear she has delusions of grandeur. But then again, she’s bought the car hasn’t she, so she really has arrived.
We are then treated to a little speech about the car and how she bought it all by herself. Really, it was out of necessity. It wasn’t because (as with so many things that she wants to excuse buying) ‘Charlie wanted it’. Anyway, it’s nice to treat the bean because he looks after everyone else. But, oh does he, I hear you ask.
There’s then a brief nod to poor Mrs Gammons, who now finds herself in a temporary home with added support. Janeykins appears ecstatic that Old Mrs G is out of the way. She tells us she’s so happy at the moment. Everythink is positive. She puts this down to the fact that she’s been channeling the law of attraction and being positive. It seems to be working, she says. She feels very close to the bean. They are having a date night tonight. Oh no; they’re going to do it aren’t they. Image GO AWAY. Maybe they’ll do it in the car ... no, they’ll never fit. In the bed it is. Hope she fishes out the nightie first. It’d be an awful shame if it should not survive the flames of passion that will be ravaging those lovely but disappointing seersucker bedsheets.
Back to the kitchen. She’s had her hair done. It’s all shiny and nice and not brassy.
There’s no mention of the weight until we get 15 minutes into this diatribe. Then we have the explanation AGAIN. She’s been comfort eating; it’s the schtwess. She knows what she needs to do; she needs to stop eating rubbish, reduce potion sizes and do a little bit of fasting and she’ll be ‘good to go’. The cold sweet potatoes are gonna save her. The woman she’s following on Instagram said so.
It’s later on and they’re in the car again. Miraculously, it’s suspension seems to be wonderfully in fact. They are off out for a dwive but we then find out that they are actually on the prowl for an ice cream.Eerrr, someone give her a poke and remind her of what she said not thirty seconds ago. No, no point. Anyway, the bean’s at the wheel, looking like a man possessed. He’s living his dream in the new bean-mobile and they’ve got the top down, because they can.
They don’t get ice cream but they do get the most fatty, synthetic looking milkshakes. There’s no mention here about them being ‘wivin their calories’ ......... because they don’t need calorie counting anymore. Weightloss is now controlled by the power of visualisation guys.(I made this last bit up, but it would never surprise me if this isn’t their next move !)
The end
To begin with, we see guess what ... the car! Chins and bean are flying along, the wind in her hair. I’m mourning the comb-over and thinking how much fun it would have been to see it flopping and whopping about in the breeze. There’s cheesy music, lots of smiling, it’s all kinda romantic. Then we catch a glimpse of the bean’s gut and I’m jolted back to reality with a thud. It’s big. It’s really big. It’s quite obvious that the calorie counting has gone to pot. I feel sorry for the engine of that poor little beast, struggling along those country roads. Too many soreen loaves; too many moun’iiin chips. TOO MUCH FOOD.
Still, janeykins has put on her makeup and made a bit of an effort. It makes a nice change seeing her all dolled up. There is something of the Rapunzel about her hair and she has a wicked glint in her eye; the knowing glint of a multi-national bizniss woman. She’s bought this car. She’s done it all by herself. The perfumes, they have delivered and she’s showing us the fwuits of her labour. Except there is no fwuit of course. There is just ice cream (but we will come to that later). For now, there is a slow-mo shot of the beautiful car. It’s so cringy, I want to vom. Then there’s a worse sight; it’s the bean, also in slow-mo, standing by the car (yes, for once, they have got out of the bloody car!) in his boohoo MAN cycling shorts. They don’t say ‘man’ on them, but they’re instantly recognisable of course. They are now, more so then ever, winning the prize for the tightest thing to come out of Eastbourne, since Janey herself (who thinks that £1.60 is ‘really expensive’ for a jar of mayo).
Back into the kitchen, where we find ourselves confronted by an unusual sight; Janeykins in an off-the-shoulder number. It’s probably so baggy, that it’s fallen off, anyhow, it makes a nice change from those nighties. Anything would.
There follows much ado about nothing as she searches high and low in the cupboards and the fridge, for stuff to cook. It’s impossible at this point, not to be struck by the derrière and the gut, both of which threaten to eclipse everything else in sight. The kitchen’s not huge, but Janeykins certainly is. Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to have a sallid. But no, she has other more fat-laden plans.
Then there’s a wonderful little ode to sweet potatoes. She’s cooked some and then coughs all over them ... . She’s going to put them in the fridge and eat them ... cold. She’s seen someone on Instagram do it. She’s tried to turn them into Mars bars by caremelisin’ them but sadly, they still look potatoey. She then tells us that there’s (once again) been ‘so much goin’ on’. She’s been so busy, but then that’s ‘working for yourself’. What?!! Does she think she’s the CEO of FM Cult? Eeek, I fear she has delusions of grandeur. But then again, she’s bought the car hasn’t she, so she really has arrived.
We are then treated to a little speech about the car and how she bought it all by herself. Really, it was out of necessity. It wasn’t because (as with so many things that she wants to excuse buying) ‘Charlie wanted it’. Anyway, it’s nice to treat the bean because he looks after everyone else. But, oh does he, I hear you ask.
There’s then a brief nod to poor Mrs Gammons, who now finds herself in a temporary home with added support. Janeykins appears ecstatic that Old Mrs G is out of the way. She tells us she’s so happy at the moment. Everythink is positive. She puts this down to the fact that she’s been channeling the law of attraction and being positive. It seems to be working, she says. She feels very close to the bean. They are having a date night tonight. Oh no; they’re going to do it aren’t they. Image GO AWAY. Maybe they’ll do it in the car ... no, they’ll never fit. In the bed it is. Hope she fishes out the nightie first. It’d be an awful shame if it should not survive the flames of passion that will be ravaging those lovely but disappointing seersucker bedsheets.
Back to the kitchen. She’s had her hair done. It’s all shiny and nice and not brassy.
There’s no mention of the weight until we get 15 minutes into this diatribe. Then we have the explanation AGAIN. She’s been comfort eating; it’s the schtwess. She knows what she needs to do; she needs to stop eating rubbish, reduce potion sizes and do a little bit of fasting and she’ll be ‘good to go’. The cold sweet potatoes are gonna save her. The woman she’s following on Instagram said so.
It’s later on and they’re in the car again. Miraculously, it’s suspension seems to be wonderfully in fact. They are off out for a dwive but we then find out that they are actually on the prowl for an ice cream.Eerrr, someone give her a poke and remind her of what she said not thirty seconds ago. No, no point. Anyway, the bean’s at the wheel, looking like a man possessed. He’s living his dream in the new bean-mobile and they’ve got the top down, because they can.
They don’t get ice cream but they do get the most fatty, synthetic looking milkshakes. There’s no mention here about them being ‘wivin their calories’ ......... because they don’t need calorie counting anymore. Weightloss is now controlled by the power of visualisation guys.(I made this last bit up, but it would never surprise me if this isn’t their next move !)
The end
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two gormless divs with no clue to what’s going on around them 
and the way Charlie says hellllllooooooo at the beginning makes me wanna smash my tv up 
she’s craving green beans ! Fuck off chins we all know you hit the pies and treat drawer after this 
I CC using MFP and think it's good. I don't always count certain things, like sauces or an extra cappuccino, but everything else gets logged.
I just need a try on haul now 
