Honesty

In my line of work I communicate with some fascinating people. And aside from their crooked bone structures and false teeth that never seem to be able to stay put, their honesty is what I find most interesting. 
Yeah, ok, most of the time I find it offensive, uninformed, and pretty radically racist, but seriously--how much time and emotion would we all be spared if we were completely and irrevocably honest? 
People would tell you when you're getting fat, that they're really not interested in seeing a movie with you about some teenager who thinks she's in love, that they wanted to go home three hours ago, that your house really does have a weird smell, and your child's chubbiness is actually kind of alarming and when you dress him up in bright red pants and a light-brown turtleneck he looks like a piece of fried chicken dipped in ketchup. 
At any rate, honesty saves us all a lot of guessing and concocting of those exhausting theories about why that one couple stopped hanging out with us and how come my Halloween candy keeps disappearing. 

So, to be totally honest: 
I've eaten three Kit Kats and two Reeses today and I don't see a trip to the gym anywhere in site. 
It requires every fiber of the goodness in my bones not to mess with the old lady at lunch who asks "is this breakfast?" 
The back seat of my car is currently my second closet. 
I laughed uncontrollably throughout the entire 10 pages of reading I had to do about penile cancer. 
I bought expensive makeup to cover up my chin that's been breaking out for weeks because of Adam's facial scruff and his inability to keep his hands off of this. 
And I daydream on an average of 8.65 times a day that Adam is Captain America.