Hummus Cookies? Celine is making cookies out of chickpeas and damn, they look pretty tasty!

Can Vegans Drink Beer? Because this deep dish portobello mushroom pizza from What Does A Vegan Eat is just screaming for a tall frosty mug of micro-brew.

Yummy Pantry Finds: Sarah's digging through her pantry and coming out with the most delicious looking improvisation we've ever seen!

Roasted Babies: Jaden shows us awesome ways to eat all of our vegetables, like these absolutely gorgeous roasted baby eggplants. Yummo!

101 Ways to Eat Veggies: Heidi's 10-minute asparagus and brown rice recipe at 101 Cookbooks looks so divine that you won't even realize that you're eating healthy.

OMG SHEEP! Andrea made the most adorable little creatures out of dark chocolate and white chocolate fondant. Who could be cold hearted enough to actually eat those little guys? Not us.

The theory goes that you do what you expect yourself to do. So expect yourself to kick ass, like Confusciously at the head of the pack.

Yoyogurl is back and blogging, trying to make realistic choices and avoiding fast food cheeseburgers. Sometimes.

Hell yes, get furious at the fucked up state of body of politics--but The Rotund reminds us to get mad at the right people, for the right reasons.

Some choices are harder than others. Lovely Melinda wrestles with her decision to get weight-loss surgery, and the doubts that follow behind.

Little girls grow up, get hips and breasts, and think they're hideously obese. Kate Harding talks about how the self-hate is starting early, and how it's got to stop.

Check out this couple who somehow obtain a jawbreaker the size of a bowling ball and then videotape their efforts to determinedly lick their way through it. Seasons change, they move across the globe, but the candy prevails. Nothing like a 6-month sugar rush!

Welcome to Reality, Ms. Spelling: Tori Spelling is shocked that her baby weight didn't get delivered along with the baby. ("Congratulations! It's a boy! And there's also a 40-lb. bag of fat and cellulite.") Sorry, Clueless, but what do you think the rest of humanity has been talking about all this time? Poor little rich girl.

Check Out the Tits on That One: Beijing artist Shu Yong has sculpted gigantic disproportionate breasts in commentary to the growing Chinese fascination with implants and wants the women of the world to just be happy with their original equipment. Warning: this video shows cartoonishly huge images of boobs and uses the word "breast" a lot, so if you've got a nosy neighbor at work, this probably isn't safe.

Caveat Emptor: Those diet drug testimonials always sound so convincing. That's because some of them are complete bullshit.

Twigs Need Not Apply: In the tradition of O-Town, the Pussycat Dolls and the Backstreet Boys, music execs in the UK are having auditions for a new band. The twist? They're calling it the Real Girl Band and are only auditioning girls who are larger than the equivalent of a U.S. size 8. Somehow we don't think Beth Ditto is losing any sleep over this.

Fatster: Those social networking sites like LinkedIn and Friendster are getting even more specialized. Check out Fat Secret, a community that wants to grow while its members shrink.

Lose Ten Pounds Instantly: Well, virtually, anyway. Take a picture and get an idea of what you'd look like after the gym reps kick in.

Photo Credit:  John Sciulli/Wire Image

Today marks the end of my fourth week of regular working out. Four weeks does not sound like a lot of working out. In fact, it sounds like very little working out, which should be followed by a three full years of working out at least three times a week if I actually want to impress anybody. And I do. I want everyone to be impressed. I mean, I'm impressed. This is possibly the longest I've ever stuck with an exercise regimen, and that includes that time in middle school when I read Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret and decided that I must, I must, I must increase my bust. And believe you me, I was really interested in increasing my bust. Which I guess worked out okay for me.

Now, I'm doing the Couch to 5K, a program designed, as you may have deduced, to remove your buttocks from your couch (though I'm sure people on chaises, easy chairs and hammocks also qualify; check the manufacturer's instructions before attempting) and put you on the path to Health, Happiness, and Excellent Cardiovascular Health. I hear runners also have nice asses, but that of course wasn't ever a consideration for me except for maybe a little bit.

Barbie gets a lot of shit these days. Yeah, she's got enormous hooters and if she were life-size, she'd have an 11-inch neck. And we're not even going to question how she can possibly be expected to jump up and down doing aerobics when her feet are permanently curved to wear high heels. But we can't really blame Barbie for that stuff. That's just who she is, she can't help that.

However, the people who write her commercials? Check it: Barbie's figure hasn't changed in 50 years. No sags, no cellulite, nothing. She doesn't need to exercise, but the commercial insists that she does. And what is the reason that the commercial gives? She needs to look great. Not to feel good. Not to be strong. Not to be fast and healthy and able to run longer than Midge or Skipper or even Ken with his big steroidal thighs. Look in the mirrors, look at your body, Barbie--no pain, no gain. At the end of the day, phew, she stills look good.

No wonder she's addicted to shopping. Because it's either that or going home to her Dream Town House and having an empty sex life with an emasculated shell of a man. Really, what Barbie needs is a hug and maybe some comfy pants.

Thank You! Posh admits that she doesn't have a good relationship with food. Suddenly, we like her again. And can stop sucking in our stomachs around David Beckham. Heh. As if.

Are You Feeling Okay? Ever wonder if you really do have that thing that's going around? Search your neighborhood! Caution: repeated exposure to this site will cause hypochondria! But it will also give you some very realistic excuses for the next time you call in sick.

My Bad at Sports Ass: This is a brilliant take on the self-hate talk that we perpetuate on ourselves. Wow. Just wow.

Easing Your Wheezing: Got Asthma? Try pranayamas! That's right, yoga can relieve asthma symptoms as well as give you an ass that could crack a walnut. Not that you care to do such a thing of course. What does one do with an ass-cracked walnut anyway?

Ten Ways to Cheat Death: Hey! Got our attention. Fine, we'll eat more vegetables and get some exercise already. No need to be so Emo about it!

Fierce! Work it! You can always tell when Tyra is out of her element because she tries to do something zany and usually hits about two feet off the mark. Now she's attacking Rosie's boobs and cackling like a loon. Really, Tyra, go back to the premodels. Somewhere we think Naomi Campbell is laughing wickedly.

Photo Credit:  Jemal Countess/Wire Image

I have some hang-ups about my undergarments. Not only do I find it crucial (oh so crucial) that the girls are supported to the best of their ability through the feats of modern technology (show me some gas-powered shocks and struts for the fun bags and I will show you a Nobel Peace Prize winner), but this doesn't mean that I neglect the action on the bottom half either. The panties have to be pretty and match. Otherwise, I am certain that I will accidentally walk through a shower of cotton-dissolving petrochemical, which will cause my outer layer of clothing to fall into a heap at my feet. Of course, this will happen when I am walking through a crowded area, like perhaps the Rose Bowl Parade or--through a strange bit of teleportation and time travel--the stage of my own high school graduation. Then four or five major network news teams will converge upon me (Fox News will be busy up the street interviewing a person dressed as a taco and will miss everything), and then my grandmother will see a picture of me on her television screen as the bottom crawl says, "Fat Woman Bursts Out Of Own Clothing: Obesity Epidemic Looms" and I will be standing there in a pink bra and a pair of red, white and blue panties decorated with anchors and that will kill my grandma dead, those anchors and the clashing colors. Dead.

Some people think of salads as rabbit food: a sad little meal rounded out by unripe tomatoes and a diet Coke. Those iceberg salads are drizzled with fat-free dressing and sprinkling of desperation. Those salads depress me. 

The salads I love are a platform for unwieldy branches of frisée, briny olives, flakes of fish, squeezes of lemon, and luscious vegetables. These salads are meant to be eaten outdoors on sunny stone patios on afternoons that seem to have no end. Failing that, they will really cheer up a workday lunch, particularly if enjoyed with a bottle of spritzy San Pellegrino, Tupperware that looks like crystal, and a red polkadot napkin spread across your lap. 

Laura Bora does not give up, and that is just one reason she totally has hot moves.

A clarion call to women--don't passively decide that your poor body image is the fault of Photoshopped model stick insects. In this classic post, the gorgeous Heather Corrina demands that you find your role models, take a stand, and love your body at any size. (May be NSFW.)

Some people motivate themselves with food, with self-flagellation, with shopping sprees. Fatslayer asks herself what her favorite superhero would do. We think she's a superhero, too.

Alert the media! Diets don't work! PastaQueen says hell no, they don't--but she'll tell you what does.

You want a reason to work your core muscles? Julie's got a hell of a reason for you.