An open letter to my Wii Fit.

Dear Wii Fit,

I have tried for so long to love you. It just isn't working out for me. It's not you...it's me. No, wait...it's you. I hate you.

It isn't enough that you mock me when I step onto the balance board with an "Oh!" like you are surprised that I weigh that much. Nice. I hate you. But in the event that I actually gain weight, you proceed to make my Mii plump out magical like (and she seems just as shocked too), and now? I have the fattest Mii in the lineup. Yay me! Or yay Mii. You can suck it either way.

Exhibit A

Also? When we are doing jackknifes together, you really need to reconsider the counting thing. Every single time, I swear you are saying "one more to go!" and I get all excited- but really, it is "tw-ONE-ty more to go!" Seriously? That is a cruel trick. You are an asshole.

Insults aside, I am convinced you are trying to gaslight me. I used to use the female trainer. But I got bored with her svelte ass gently telling me I just "wasn't strong enough for this exercise", so I am batting for the other team and have switched to the Dood. I like Dood. Dood is alright in my book. He does not make me feel self conscious with my fatparts jiggling all around. Why? Because he is apparently a eunuch. Which is delightfully entertaining. I trust Dood. But then one day, there is something different with Dood. Something is off. Hmmm...what could it be? Hey- when did he get that metro ponynub? Is Dood's hair long enough for a ponytail? Is it just too hot inside of my television today? Did Dood get fired and this is his replacement? Did he run off with Chick? Is Chick preggers?!?!? Why have I never noticed this before? And then the next day, he's back to his usual self.

Gaslighting.
See for yourself.

This is Dood. Nice looking, non-judgemental, kindhearted...he cares, yo.


This is back of Dood.


Hmm...what's this? An interloper?


WTF Dood?!? You're obviously more absorbed with your looks than you are with my health.
Go screw yourself.


You be the judge.

So, I am leaving you for Zumba, where the girl trainer is upbeat and motivating, and the Guido-boy trainer looks at you with crazy-eyes, just like he probably would in a real club, because you are blocking his reflection in the mirror. He too, is self absorbed, but at least he doesn't front.

Kisses,
Me.