Life Rule #46: Always Keep Your Fat Pants From College.

Much like the time I came home for the holidays and instead of saying I looked great, my mom could only muster the phrase, “Meg! You look… different.”

And different, folks, came in the form of cankles, a beer belly, and one too many trips to the dessert buffet at the dining hall.

This past halloween was the first time I was actually happy about the fact that I gained 20 lbs freshman year of college because I spent more time face deep in the all-you-can-eat dining halls rather than in books.

I have since lost the dreaded freshman twenty and leveled out to my normal frame.  And much like other people who achieve a big goal, I kept a memento to show me that I never want to go back to that place.  Which is also why I keep the ticket stub to Panic Room, because I never want to revisit that film in my lifetime, and need a tangible reminder that I still disliked Kristen Stewart at a young age.

Keep the hate flame hot, kids.

Anyways, I kept my fat pants from college, the ones I wore when I was my heaviest, and put them in my pants drawer to remind myself how far I’ve come. I never really took the time to look at them, keeping them folded up and put away was enough of a reminder for me.  I absolutely never intended to wear them again.

That was until brilliance struck me in the form of me literally being the cheapest person on the planet when it comes to Halloween costumes. Sure, I like dressing up as much as anyone, but cut to the part in my life where I go to Costco to eat a free sample lunch so I don’t spend money, and this holiday goes from doable to I hate my life in three seconds.

Also, since I like to be a pioneer and slutty costumes are generally frowned upon in an office setting, I decided that the best, most efficient option for Halloween was for me to dress up like a man.

And not just any man, Rob Dyrdek.

I was a HUGE fan of Rob and Big when I was in high school.  My friend, Megan, and I would watch marathons of it on weekends and just die laughing.  They were hysterical.  Plus, my friend Chris was the perfect partner for this costume, so we would totally kill two birds with one stone.

I finally had a place to wear my fat pants and finally got to live out a day in the life of a male. It was GLORIOUS.



But the best part about this whole day was when I was a social media addict and decided to tweet at both Rob Dyrdek AND Big Black to see if they would acknowledge my existence.  Much to my surprise and all to my shock and awe, THEY DID.

Then we went viral.  Well, viral in my terms.



We got both of them to acknowledge us and I don’t know how Halloween will ever be greater than October 31, 2014. It was a day for the books and one I will never forget.

Moral of the story is, keep your fat pants.  Keep that old, baggy sweatshirt that may come in handy when you want to dress up like anyone who wears a sweatshirt.  Just keep all of it.  Aside from it reminding you of a you you don’t want to remember (wait, what?), they could come in handy when you decide you want to dress like a man for a day and tweet at a B-list celebrity.

What were you for Halloween? Has a celebrity ever tweeted at you? Am I insane?

VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED: It’s the VMA’s and I have access to social media, a large bottle of wine and no filter.

Screen Shot 2014-04-13 at 7.07.31 PMAward show season!  Thank you for giving me the momentous excuse opportunity to pollute the twittersphere and subsequently the rest of the social media universe with all of my thoughts and feelings on the MTV VMA’s.

Join me, won’t you?  It’s time to watch award shows and let social media know what you really think about Katy Perry’s hair, if Lady Gaga is actually wearing a dress or just walking around in a cowhide, and whether or not Justin Beiber and Selena Gomez are really dating… wait, are they? I can’t keep up.

It’s the VMAs, and we should talk shit about celebrities without consequences while we still can.  I think in the future they may be able to virtually punch us in the face, and I will probably have a long list of people waiting in line.  I see you Kristen Stewart.

Follow me on Twitter to see the full rant rundown.

I’ll be here all night, unfortunately.

Drink a bottle of your favorite, cheapest wine, and take a seat right in front of your television AND computer and hop on the train to funtown.  We’re gonna tweet up a storm, and you’re going to need a raincoat.  Or an umbrella.  Or some galoshes.  Or just a roof.