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CoolSculpting
Videos. Instagrams. Daddy, Daddy Cool. Daddy, Daddy Cool.

The amount of spam emails I’ve been sent about ‘miracle’ proteins that melt fat or whatever. It’s a lot. I don’t know why, but they all seem to think I’m at death’s door. My liver, kidneys, lungs…they’re all fucked. And I live in America, apparently. I got one the other day alerting me to the fact that I’d been selected as a potential subject for an article in America’s most respected women’s networking organization (sic) magazine.

I don’t mean to be crass about it, but I imagine if a publication like that existed (which it probably does, but this isn’t it), the worst thing you could possibly be is a heterosexual man with a real-life, functioning penis.

Got off to a bad start with this one, haven’t we? CoolSculpting freezes your fat away. It doesn’t melt it. You were looking the wrong way all along, suckers. Obviously I don’t really know how it works.

If I had to choose, though…I’d much rather freeze to death than be burnt to death. Thoughts?

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