On discussing sweating versus eating on our lunch hour.

TESS: I think we need to skip the gym and head on over to the Olive Pit for some good ole Eye-talyun.

JETT: I think we are in need of some endorphins. Big, juicy, sweat-drenched endorphins.

TESS: I’m having a bad day. I need pasta. Let’s just see what’s on the buff-FAAAAAAAY!

JETT: TESSA NICOLE.

TESS: Look, there is ravioli there. HOMEMADE RAVIOLI, JAY-UTT. It is calling!

JETT: Cardio is calling.

TESS: I’m buying.

JETT: Done!

TESS: I’M YOUR ENABLER.

JETT: Look, this being-bad-on-lunch business comes with one condition: I see your Italian foodstuffs and raise you one peach cobbler tacked on the back end.

TESS: Wellll. Go you one further: *I* see *your* peach cobbler and raise you one fat scoop of vanilla bean.

JETT: Draw. Whore.

Yet another thing I’m pronouncing brilliant and encouraging you to click through on. I should get paid for that sort of thing. Only, I’m not Dooce or nothin’.