Working on their fitness…he’s their witness

I hate celebrities so bad sometimes. I make extra cash working at Frost Mountain during the summers. Not only do I pocket some tax-free cash, but I find working outside to be very cathartic (except the aftermath of bug bites that I am currently scratching) However, I worked on the mountain til about 10, then booked it to my own home to get ready to go work at the bank ‘til 5:30. ‘Booo, waaaaa,’ you may say. But that was over 9 hours of work (3 ½ of it being very physical-with the squatting and the reaching) Then, I went home and ran 5 miles and weight lifted.

I say this slightly to brag (cause I worked it yesterday) but also to complain that celebrities have got a pretty sweet set up. One of their main jobs is to look beautiful. I will use Kim Kardashian as a prime example. What does Kim possibly do that doesn’t have to do with her looks? Nothing, that’s what. She works out, waxes, tweezes, botoxes, updates her hair extensions, gets makeovers, works out, tans, spray tans. That is her job. She gets paid to be beautiful. And she gets paid VERY WELL not doubt. Not only is she rich, but the dang designers throw couture at her for free! The injustice of it all!

Not only do I work a full time job, go to school to get my MBA, I have to work out on my own, keep up my hair color and styling, AND cook my own food. (the man servant/chef was just too expensive to keep around ) And guess what? I work like a little peasant at Frost Mountain just to have a little extra cash for play, or to spend on random lame bills (overpriced Dermatologist anyone)

So, with that being said, I HATE FAT CELEBRITIES. I’m sorry, call me a heinous jerk if you want. You are a celebrity. You may act/sing, but part of your salary is for looking good. You can afford to have personal trainers, nutritionists, and chefs at your fingertips. Fergie works her tooshy off (literally, for the general public to enjoy) If Fergie was nasty looking, people would not put up with the Black Eyed Peas (a Miss Jessica Simpson comes to mind).

Now, drop that third stick of butter and jump on the treadmill…or sign up for Dancing with the Stars. You don’t have the luxury of excuses us normal civilians have, to look the way we do.