Country: 174.137.35.14, North America, US

City: -121.5418 California, United States

I've always had skinny limbs, all the body fat in my belly. The infomercial looked so good with all those sincere people (yes) that I decided to try this. The belt is useless. I forgot to return it in time and just thought oh well, perhaps I can sometimes wear it if I need to tuck a heat wrap in my lower back or something. They sent me two gel tubes more and charged my Visa. I made an angry phone call and they said I had agreed to get monthly shipments. Really? I don't think so. I returned the gels, but got only some of my money back. I feel like finding the owner of this stupid belt and egging his or her car. DO NOT ORDER THIS. Order The Fat Flush Plan book instead, by Ann Louise Gittleman.

It is good but requires the assistance of a trained tax advisor. It needs re-reading. One find out that it is always possible to reduce taxation.

I should have known my son was up to no good. My parent-o-meter was off the chart when I caught Stephen and his friend, Paul smuggling a brown paper bag in the house on Saturday but when I went to investigate what they were hiding in the brown paper bag all that was in the bag was a harmless bag of gummy bears, sugarless even. How was I to know these were demon bears from the pit of anal gushing, black acid, diarrhea hell the hell these boys were about to unleash on our little community church and the Pastor who also happens to be my husband and Stephen’s father? Paul spent the night with Stephen that night; the boys said they had something special they were working on for the church service in the morning. “What nice young men” I thought. They wanted to pass out treats to each of the members. They worked throughout the evening putting the little gummy gut busters into snack bags. I’m not sure if they slept any that night after they went to bed because my husband and I had to get on to them several times to stop giggling and go to sleep because Jim had to preach in the morning. The morning started out as any Sunday morning, chaotic and rushed, Jim didn’t have time to eat breakfast so he grabbed a bag of screaming demons the kids had prepared for the unsuspecting congregants and began eating them as we ran out of the parsonage across the yard to the church when my son yelled out, “dad, don’t eat those!, I mean, those aren’t for you, those are for the church!” “Oh come on son, you won’t miss this one bag will you?” “No dad, really, do not eat them all.” “I won’t” he said, “I’ll save some for later.” He lied. He ate them… ALL 30 of them just as soon as the boys ran off to hand out their butt-bombs-o-misery. All began as normal, the organ player played her first song, people took their seats while they munched on their gummy bowel dislodgers, we sang some hymns, the choir sang a few songs, the bulletin was read, we took prayer requests , prayed (not well enough obviously), then my husband began to preach. Pretty soon he began to tug at his tie then beads of perspiration began to pop up on his face. About that time we heard a loud pppbbbblappblat! Followed by an “oh my” from Sis Murphy, the organist. Of course the church began to snicker. It was obvious my husband wasn’t the only one suffering from discomfort. My husband tried to regain control of the service but a sudden wave of pain struck him and he doubled over. I Noticed a brown river flooding down his trousers and onto the garish blue shag carpet I’ve been begging the deacons to replace (I’ll thank the boys for that someday when they’re 30 ;-) and finally off groundation). There was another loud, wet trumpet sound from the organ player then she was off running and squealing like a stuck pig for the bathroom and trailing behind her was a brown goo. About that time, brother Ramsey, in the choir, howled in misery, grabbed his butt cheeks with both hands and squeezed them shut and duck waddled out of the choir loft and down the isle of the church while making the strangest strangling cat/grunting pig sound. Guessing by the timeline of events that took place that morning, Sis Murphy, the organist must have eaten the second bag after my husband followed by brother Ramsey, our male tenor in the choir. Mr. Scott, our portly deacon must have received his little gift-o-fun next then Kate, our church secretary probably got two bags, judging by the mess on the 3rd 4rth and 5th row of pews and along the wall and baseboards after becoming lodged beneath poor Mr. Scott when his fit of bowel gush struck like a pyroclastic blast of liquid and gaseous petrifaction. The Mckinnley twins ate more than a few little hellish jelly beasts judging by the mess covering the Mayor’s wife who had been sitting next to them. After that it’s hard to say who ate what, and when. There was a line leading from both men’s and women’s bathrooms, a trail of blood, liquefied guts and excrement from the church all the way into both bathrooms, on walls, ceiling, in the carpet, all over the people, everyone was yanking each other off of toilets (so much for brotherly love) hair pulling and slapping each other over toilet paper, some were using the planters and fancy vases as toilet receptacles. When the local paper got wind of it they just wrote it up as local church gets hit with strange virus. Local town folk think we’re doing some sort of strange purification ritual. Well, were not telling the church members OR the town folk it was the boys and these evil, gut exploding, bowel gushing, liquid butt acid sugarless Haribo Gummy bears. Because we finally got to replace the carpet in the church, I’ll give this product 5 stars. YAY! NO MORE BLUE SHAG CARPET!!!

I'm two weeks in and I could see results in 2 days. Can't say it's doubled my lashes but they are definately thicker. I was given this product at a discount for my honest opinion.