Hamber's looking fatter than ever. Newsflash, fatty: upward camera angle is really not your friend. Not that it ever was, but you're working toward 2019-2020 levels of flab here. We know this because your ears are getting hidden by your fat fucking face.
Then:
Now:
She asks MG,W what she did for her 21st birthday. After listening to it four goddamned times, I finally got it: went out to eat. To the shock of absolutely no one except maybe your great aunt Tilly, who was - probably, according to your reckoning - born in the stone age, Hamber says she went out to eat. Of course. Hamber, who doesn't believe that everyone else doesn't remember every place they've gone to shove a crumb of food in their piehole, asks where she went. MG,W doesn't remember. Hamber, naturally, recalls that she went to Applebee's. Your aunt Tilly loves Applebee's. Fine dining, that!
Surprise! The ass-teh-tick laundry basket is not functional. It's almost as if that sort of shit is bought by people who don't do laundry themselves. She says her and her TRex arms can't reach all the way down to the bottom of it. Well, isn't that why you have a grabber stick? Or is that much exercise not something you're into?
In a completely rare, never seen before bout of consumerism, Hamber informs us that both she and MG,W will both be opening gifts for the next five days. Hamber says she wants MG,W to open hers first, while MG,W says she wants Hamber to open hers first. Riveting "You." "No, you." "Nah, you." third grader content.
MG,W opens hers first. Hamber being Hamber can't even wait until she has it fully unwrapped before she starts running her mouth about reviews, and has to tell MG,W what it is ("It's a cheesy word clock!") and that she thinks it will look good on MG,W's desk, Hamber: deep and thoughtful gift-giver. I bet she spent maybe five whole minutes on selecting that one.
Hamber repositions the camera so it's pointing at her. Bitches about her hair being a mess. Couldn't fit WASHING YOUR NASTY FUCKING HAIR on your jam-packed schedule, eh, Ham? "This is a big 'un," says Hamber. Does her idiotic and annoying cackling, tears a corner off he package, does retard face with open mouth. "How is this not xmas?" (Insert yet another usually "baby" in here.) "I gave you a stupid modern clock and you give me this?" Ah, so now you see the clock is stupid. Maybe you'll one day learn to really give a think to what you're about to gift people (but I doubt it). Hamber finally removes the rest of the wrapping, and it's a Lego set - van Gogh's Starry Night. She's "been wanting this" because of course she has.
Hamber says she feels like she's taken a big L in the gifting, and MG,W has to step in, call her baby, and reassure Ham that she loves her gifts. Whatever.
These retards say baby more in a single conversation than I did in an entire year with my last partner.
Hamber shows the clock, which MG,W has plugged in. Exciting. Nothing screams healthy relationship like asking your other over and over and over and over a-fucking-gain if they like their gift.
Rarity scene! Hamber, of course, ruins it by speaking at all, which then moves to talking that insipid baby talk bullshit at the cat, disturbing her nap. Could you learn to STFU every once in awhile? Leave the fucking cat alone.
They're going to make tacos. Hamber is "pumped" about it, as she always is for food (and only food). She is "massively craving" tacos, let her tell us!
MG,W is dealing with the onion duty today, since Hamber doesn't like doing that. If only there was something
one could use to easily dice onions.
While MG,W slices the onion instead of dicing it, Hamber throws ground turkey and onion in a pan, cooking them. Hamber says she likes having onion both in the filling mix and on the tacos. She thinks it's "sho gud" and laughs, acknowledging she says that a lot. She them promptly forgets this iota of self-awareness.
She's added seasoneens to the mix and she's going to add a packet of taco seasoneens as well. Why have just one round of salt when you can have two, after all.
She then mentions that she saw B Loves Life where she added corn to the mixture - goodness, however did she come up with revolutionary idea, I wonder - so Hamber's going to do that as well. She also adds salsa to the mix "for flavor", i.e., more seasoneens, more salt.
The taco shells are in the oven, warming. Hamber is excited, says again that she has been massively craving tacos. We got it the first time, Hamber Two Times. Cheese (salt), cheese (salt), lettuce, Tapatio (salt) as toppings for the tacos.
Sidetracked by a gingerbread house box just hanging out on the counter next to the fridge. Hamber says they have not yet done the houses, but they are thinking they may do them on the 23rd. We're holding our collective breath in giddy anticipation, Hamber.
Stupid square plate. "All right, let's make a taco, folks, let's make a taco." GFY with this repeating bullshit.
It is the height of hilarity watching her trying to do things with her giant balloon beetus paws. She's trying to put shit into the shell, and making a mess of it. Next time, Hamber:
She's overfilling the shell, guaranteeing a royal mess when she eats. "Sorry, tacos are messy." They're not supposed to be. It's a hand food, something you could eat on the go, like a burrito or a sub with fries on it. HANDY. Use more shells if you want more filling that one shell can stand.
Hamber informs us that MG,W has already tried her soft tacos and declared them "Fire." Terrific. Hamber will now be using that in place of slaps an "sho gud".
"Tacos are so messy." Thanks, Hamber Two Times. She takes a bite. As expected, filling oozes out the opposite end. She takes a bite and does that idiotic wide open eyed thousand yard stare - typically Hamber overly dramatic reaction as she says "Oh. My. God." like it's orange chicken served up by Zeus himself. It's just assembly, Hamber. It isn't a ten course tasting menu at Alinea.
Starts rattling on about how she thinks she isn't a cook, but must have been s chef in another lifetime. Hamber, you are neither a chef nor a cook, not in this lifetime or any other. You're a basic bitch assembler of food things.
Blah blah, White Lotus, blah. "We'll see, folks. We'll see." OK, Hamber Two Times.
Shows the kitchen, which now needs cleaning. Shoves the filling around in the pan, tells us this is what's left - really? - and that she'll probably eat this later, maybe with four pounds of rice, because it is "SHO GUD". I guarantee you'll eat the rest of that, Hamber.
Bullshit cutesy message on the chalkboard. It's just fucking creepy. MG,W is "taking a nap", but I imagine she's probably just in bed for the night, and those tacos were Hamber's breakfast.
Hamber's now on the Torrid site, looking to buy even more clothes that don't fit and that she will never wear. She's castigating them for not having cuter clothes, and telling them to "step it up." HER fashion is not represented there. Your sense of fashion consists of old woman sofa slipcovers. If you don't like what they're offering, get Omar to make something custom for you. Tells Torrid - again - to "step it up." Thanks, Hamber Two Times.
Q&A nonsense from instagram. Addresses the free earrings, says they weren't sponsored, she just liked them. Sure.
Lymphedema specialist says walk ten minutes, no more. Says she hopes to move more in 2023. LOL. An evergoal for every year. This is the extent of the "exercise" portion of the program. She isn't actually exercising, she's doing what she does best: TALKING about it.
No weighing, no talking about her weight makes Hamber binge less. You do not have BED. Not talking about your weight or weighing yourself means not having to explain why you're gaining, ergo not relying on using binging as an excuse.
WLS: giving up. Oh, wait, is going to leave it to fate. I suppose that's as good as acting as if you have any intention of restricting your diet. Maybe we will get that massive stroke or MI after all! Woo hoo!
Third grade arts and crafts: using cranes to color the stupid box house thing. Addresses the crayon/crane thing, is not convincing. She's just an ordamental idiot.
Taste test. Outshine fruit bar. Likes the coconut, is trying to pineapple. Hates it.
Stupid baby/daddy bullshit. Fucking weird and creepy.
"Avent" calendar. Talks about h3. Who cares. Just another shitty thing you've glommed onto.
COTD: Someone as stupid with grammar as she is says "We seen" (list of things), wants to see Hamber cook more, asks if she bakes, suggests she make lasagna or pizza. Bleh.
Threatens to se us again tomorrow, runs loser outro.
vlogmas day 21 - December 21, 2022
