Passing, We Met....

I sit witching at house on t.v. day in day out, all I do is eat, and yell at him. He is of poor bed side manor.He flips me a pill, we joke. My legs are like sausages, Purple, blue streaks, flashing. Food has to have salt, salt makes me drink more, Pepsi. I cannot wear shoes any longer, they split at the seams, if I stand in them. They are comming soon to take me to surgery, they have to remove the sausage, the skins are split, the meat is ruin't. You can tell by the malodorous air, sweat and sour pork, is Chuin suet.I could not feel you anyway. The hog farmer makes his rounds here every day, not only for mine, but every thing you donate from your frame as well. I am a diabolic! What happened to you? Miscarriages.