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The following SG Journal Entry will be written in the Informal Undone Vernacular:

DUDE! Do you know what's cool? I took my measurements yesterday (which I really shouldn't have done, because I am still on the rag and all, and I tend to bloat up, like, eight million pounds when Aunt Flo comes to visit), and I am one hott motherfucker!

Dude, I don't know what I weigh (but I'm pretty sure it's a EQ:2 Barbarian-esque 193 Pounds, since I've weighed this EQ:2 Barbarian-esque 193 Pounds for the past three years, and the fact that I can out-wrestle my cuddlicious 6'5" boyfriend/finace makes me insanely happy), but I do know that my measurements are a highly impressive 41" / 32" / 41". And in case you didn't know, in number land, that translates to HOTT!!!

I can so fucking kick your ass right now.

My boyfriend and I took a walk in the extreme cold this evening and went to the coffee shop (because we always walk to the coffee shop, and it's got to the point where everyone who works there pretty much knows us, and they gave us free coffee on the day we got engaged and shit), and we looked over the wedding books I'd bought (The Anti-Bride Guide to Wedding Planning and Bridal Bargains). We also discussed having a Star Wars wedding, complete with Storm Troopers and a Jedi Knight to marry us.

We then threw out that idea because it's completely fucking stupid.

But we were considering it.
Don't you love us now?