While my significant other is off doing sports, I have worked myself into a pasta coma followed by Bailey’s.
How I felt after I found my library’s website’s old code on the WayBack Machine after I totally fucked it up trying to install search widgets, and hours of not knowing what I did.
lets just be clear, if you spend the time baking a cake/cookies/brownies, you can eat as many of them as you want and the calories don’t count. you made those calories. you’re their god.
disclaimer: this does not apply to children you have made
I’m usually more concerned with the more immediate threat of all the lactose. But I guess the same applies: I made those farts. I made that diarrhea. I’m their god.