Introducing… ‘Carb Face’.Posted: May 10, 2011
I call her Carb Face (no speech marks from now on) because she’s British (no shock there), she constantly stuffs her face with carbs, moans about her weight ALL THE TIME, and yet still eats the carbs.
She’s got a big, pudgy moon-face that looks bready but also shiny. Shiny bread. She’s a walking chalah.
Carb Face is one of the few people who makes me feel good about myself.
I go out to dinner with her just so that she can eat my carbs.
She’ll inhale the bread basket, Scooby snack a pasta bowl and destroy a pie before you’ve even unfolded your napkin. And I love her for it.
She’s the type of person who will order her own popcorn at the cinema, eat it all and then have no problem with stealing yours. Amazing.
She’s probably 20lbs over her ideal weight (by LA standards, which makes her a supermodel in 99.9% of the rest of the world).
Carb Face goes to the gym, takes a dance class and does yoga – the hot one. But she never loses weight because her food intake cancels out any calories she might burn off.
She came over the other night looking exceptionally yeasty to tell me that she’s thinking of taking up indoor rock climbing. It’s great for your lats and calf muscles apparently. I encouraged her because frankly, anything that keeps her away from the bakery is a ‘good thing’.
(Also, Carb Face has cankles but she hides them well with an expensive boot cut jean.)
And while we talked about rock climbing and the hot guys she might meet there, she polished off an entire packet of chocolate biscuits (Jaffa Cakes).
That’s my Carb Face. Born and bread.