It seems that our toast of the town-obsessed culture has bewitched a turn for the worse. As if it wasn’t bad satisfactorily to step on scales at the gym or at the doctor’s, now you can trouble limitless amounts of self-hatred with the Celebrity Weighing Scales. Having a cadaverous day? You may just be a Scarlett Jo. Sense of touch a bit bloated? Let’s not go there. The exclusive marginally entertainingplan this could assist would be to see if my handbag weighs more than Nicole Richie. Premised the inordinate amount of crap it can carry on on a given day, it would doubtlessly make interesting matter for my chiropractor.
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