Body Wars Episode V: The Hampire Strikes Back For those of you who don't know, I'm still living at my parent's house for winter break, alongside my thinshaming fatass sister who accused me of being an ugly anorexic skeleton. Of course, these accusations were made on a McDonald's-fueled bought of jealousy. The ham knows it is fat. The ham knows it must change. But not before giving in to the sweet call of sabotage. Bonus verification pic and more because fuck hams, I'm fit and proud godammit. As promised, I have another update from her deep-fried antics. I was walking upstairs when I saw her in my room, digging through my duffel bag like a pig rooting for truffles. "What are you doing?" "These are mine now" she said with a smug look. Trapped in her piggy paws were my brightly-colored Saucony roadrunning shoes. The well-worn, well-loved shoes I had saved up for with my low-paying college job that probably had more miles on them than some cars. "No you don't!" I swiped them and dodged her grabbing hands as she tried to get them back. "But I need those! My friend and I are going to the gym today and I need those to run on the treadmill!"  I asked her what she meant by this. She wanted to take my shoes, not just borrow them. OH HELL NO. I'm running a Boston-qualifying marathon in February. Nobody in their right mind is stealing my shoes without getting a concussion in the process. "You are not taking my shoes. The soles are imprinted with my tread and will probably give you an injury if you run in them regularly. You have a job and you should have bought your own pair instead of waiting until the last second to steal mine. If you wait a minute, I'll find you a pair of shoes for the gym." She had spent hundreds of dollars on beauty supplies, Amiibo toys and 3quirky nurd grrrrl clothing. She certainly had enough to shell out $50 on a decent pair of running shoes. "But I need those ones to run fast!"  I ignored her and went to find her a pair of gym shoes. Anything to get this ham in the gym to lose weight, so she wouldn't collapse into a black hole and swallow my entire town.  Our mom went through a fitness phase and there was a bin full of barely-used sneakers upstairs. I began digging through it to find her a matching pair fit for jogging on a treadmill. Meanwhile, she had disappeared into the bathroom and began doing her makeup. What the fuck?! Who goes to the gym with makeup on? Oh wait, fatasses who go to the gym together and sit around instead of exercise. Just as I found a matching pair, I heard her run out of the bathroom and waddle down the stairs.  "Hey, I found you some shoes! Get back here!" She slammed the door and headed across the yard, where a friend was waiting in a car. I facepalmed as I watched them drive away up the street. I could almost hear her next excuse writing itself: "I ran on the treadmill today in my Vans and my legs got soooo sore, I guess I'm just not made for exercise, teehee!"