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Where the big fish swim.

“A cheese danish Betty? Are you off your diet…again?”

There is a special magic in the air when two 400+lbs women decide to shit on each other’s weight.

Its like a Disney animated movie, awesome and awe inspiring at the same time.

The woman who stood in the doorway of her glass house and threw the first stone, was shoveling a portion of what appeared to be the biggest bear claw I have ever seen into her festering gob.

(I would like to take a moment to apologize for my insensitive comments on a very sensitive topic. Being overweight. I mean, I am carrying a little extra myself, so you think I would hold off. Fuck it, we’re doing this.)

Woman number 2, technically the victim here, never even paused as she took a bite of the aforementioned cheese danish that was big enough to choke a French man. (The punch line there is that it is impossible to choke a French man, those fuckers do nothing BUT swallow. )

We will call her Betty. (There are maybe two people that understand why Betty is a funny name.)

Betty doesn’t miss a beat.

“Following your example, Barb. Diabetes hasn’t slowed you down one bit.” (There is an implied Fuck You that is almost impossible to miss. And with the name Barb, we get to call her Babs.)

Then next five minute are really hard to take, and I am in pain when the ladies pack up and leave.

I have almost shit myself at least 3 times trying hard not to laugh.

Here are the highlights:

  • Betty has gout, and Babs thinks that is funny. (This is a level of Rotten Bitch that even I will not attempt.)
  • Babs son’s business failed and somehow this is linked to him being gay. (There is a line of logic that they both seemed to know, but Babs dismissed with a muffled belch.)
  • Both women referred to each other as “You old whore”, “Bitch” and even the C-word was trotted out a few times. (They were like sailors on leave with those mouths.)

It was an unbelievable thing to witness two people that the normal societal expectations would make them brittle emotionally, but instead had given them bullet proof self esteem and a “Go fuck yourself” attitude that would daunt a biker gang.

They said what they wanted, did what they wanted could not give two shits what you think.

They laughed more in the 10 minutes that I witnessed than most people do in a hot weekend in Vegas.

And when they left the room was a little sadder for the loss.

I love big personalities especially when they are attached to people outside the norm.

You will never see pretty people (Pretty according to the mass media definition) being this brutal, self deprecating and aggressive.

Most people get too self aware and shy to make a scene like that in public.

Like walking sharks, the little fish get out of their way.

And the pastries are just chum in the water.

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Posted by on September 18, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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High fiber means a happy ass.

I recently began taking a fiber suppliment.

To put it bluntly, I was not being regular.

And I need a little regularity in my life.

So, Metamucil it is.

And the shit works, literally.

You should see my morning BM.

Color, consistency, firmness, its a thing of beauty.

I may start selling my dueces on Ebay.

And firmness? I may be only a week away from never having to wipe again.

(If I was not laughing non-stop during the writing of all of this, I might hesitate to post it. As it is, fuck yeah!)

My mother will not be happy with any of this post at all.

I just ran the Ebay line past her and I was glad my CPR card was up to date, because the woman practically shit herself. (Without the benefit of high-fiber. Her loss.)

So, this post is all about shit.

My shit, fiber-induced shit, the shit I will take for writing about shit, you name it.

The shit will hit the fan.

I wrote the section above roughly a day ago and even I am a little queasy about the idea of a post all about my bowel movements.

Not enough to keep me from doing it, mind you, but enough to worry me.

I get a fair amount of hate mail as it is.

The most consistent bunch that email me are the closet english teachers.

They all start their emails the same way.

“I am not an english teacher, but-”

The one thing none of them have ever written was “will my writing you make any difference?”

The answer is no.

If anything, my belligerent side kicks up and I find myself adding 1-2 more grammatical mistakes of the same sort, just to be a dick.

As I have said before, its important to have a hobby. Fucking with people is mine.

The second most consistent group that emails me to complain are the people who believe that if a subject is rude, inappropriate or politically incorrect, you should not mention it.

This “Stick your head in the sand and it will go away” philosophy has worked so well in every other facet of their lives, why not share the love.

Confrontation is not a polite way of doing things, but it does get shit done.

Maybe its not the slickest way of handling things, but there are less things keeping me up late at night because of it.

Just wanted to get all of that off of my chest.

Or out of my ass, as it were.

 
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Posted by on November 18, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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