Asenna Steam
kirjaudu sisään
|
kieli
简体中文 (yksinkertaistettu kiina)
繁體中文 (perinteinen kiina)
日本語 (japani)
한국어 (korea)
ไทย (thai)
български (bulgaria)
Čeština (tšekki)
Dansk (tanska)
Deutsch (saksa)
English (englanti)
Español – España (espanja – Espanja)
Español – Latinoamérica (espanja – Lat. Am.)
Ελληνικά (kreikka)
Français (ranska)
Italiano (italia)
Bahasa Indonesia (indonesia)
Magyar (unkari)
Nederlands (hollanti)
Norsk (norja)
Polski (puola)
Português (portugali – Portugali)
Português – Brasil (portugali – Brasilia)
Română (romania)
Русский (venäjä)
Svenska (ruotsi)
Türkçe (turkki)
Tiếng Việt (vietnam)
Українська (ukraina)
Ilmoita käännösongelmasta
Parana, Brazil 
👳 ☁ that
🐠🥞 ✴ you've
🍇⛳🕺 ☻ read
📣🍖💙👔 ✤ Fortune's
💗🎍📀🌳🚘 ✿ diet
👑💃🌸🐟🔋📀 ¤ truths, you'll be prepared the next time some housewife or boutique-owner-turned-diet-expert appears on TV to plug her latest book. And, if you still feel a twinge of guilt for eating coffee cake while listening to her exhortations, ask yourself the following questions: (1) Do I dare trust a person who actually considers alfalfa sprouts a food? (2) Was the author's sole motive in writing this book to get rich exploiting the forlorn hopes of chubby people like me? (3) Would a longer life be worthwhile if it had to be lived as prescribed ... without French-fried onion rings, pizza with double cheese, or the occasional Mai-Tai? (Remember, living right doesn't really make you live longer, it just *seems* like longer.) That, and another piece of coffee cake, should do the trick.