So I hear you don't want to get off your FAT ASS to go to your sister's wedding. I don't blame you, she is a whore, but you gotta represent.
So...go take a walk. Stop being depressed. Motherf*cker, you are selling SOCKS at Neiman Marcus. That's better than nothing. I have a dollar in my pocket as I type this letter. You could lose at least 40 lbs. and still look...OK.
Get it together. I would call you the "N" word, but that isn't appropriate, even though your sister is marrying one of those...you know...
photo source: Softpedia