Pasta is the Devil

Well, less than 24 hours into our Italian jaunt, I have sampled no fewer than four super-rich pasta dishes. I think my favorite involved brandy, lobster, cream, and tomato. Something tells me I’m going to have quite the surprise when next I waddle atop a Weight Watchers scale.

Between downing sublime meals and the Roman heat, my rings have officially jumped over one finger to the left. I’m pudged up, America. Deal with it.

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