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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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The coming of the Fat Man

This is the world as we know it.

People are not bad at heart, they just do bad things sometimes.

But, they don’t seek to do bad things.

And people that drink coffee like it piping hot.

And then there is the alternate universe going on at the next table at Starbucks.

The Fat Man, not the one from the Maltese Falcon played by the immortal Sydney Greenstreet, but the 450lbs guy sitting in the Starbucks in Manhattan Beach this morning, is eyeing his 3 cranberry orange scones like a pedophile eyeing a playground.

He has been on the phone for the last 20 minutes with someone who, for lack of a better term, is his evil minion.

Here are the atrocities that I have so far heard:

  • At 12:01am on the first of May, any of the tenants (See also, poor unlucky bastards) that have not paid rent are to be evicted. He actually stabbed his chubby little finger in the air for enphasis.
  • Shut down his daughters credit account. Apparently, she is 18 and got a job. The atrocity part of this is that he specified that the evil minion was NOT to let her know. Typically you don’t see parents actively seeking to shit on their own children.
  • The Fat Man crumbled up two of the scones and put the pieces into his coffee, INTO HIS COFFEE, and let them sit and soak. The end result will be the coffee being soaked completely into the crumbs and the cup will be filled with cranberry orange coffee oatmeal, sans oatmeal. While that might sound somewhat tasty, it was the slow, lurid sucking of his fingers to clean them off that lent the air of unclean dirtiness to the whole thing.
  • He informed his evil minion that he had a while to wait before he could drink his coffee because he likes it at ROOM TEMPERATURE.

His look, his speech, his mannerisms, the very air around him is repellent.

If Hitler had a brother that he considered to be a little too extreme, the Fat Man would be it.

I have begun to wonder if others can see him, or if he is just a figment of my imagination, a demon of sorts, sent to torture me as a warning to live a better life. (Much like a twisted version of It’s a wonderful life.)

The man appears to be exceptionally well off, but I hate to use that term.

The words “Well off” seems contradictory.

Plus, he just farted.

I realize everyone farts, but most people try to hide it or at least apologize when they can’t.

He didn’t even lean over on one cheek and let go, it was just a mid-sentence mini-explosion that may well have been a part of his speech, like a comma.

He never paused.

In the back of my head, the part with the vile little voice? There seems to be A LOT of whispering that the Fat Man had just shit himself and that by my not commenting or leaving, I was showing my approval.

Why the voice does that to me is confusing.

I mean, the voice likes being in Starbucks, there is so many things to see and talk shit about.

So, I pack up and leave in protest.

But, I did not manage to get out before I got a whiff of the Fat Man’s rectal cologne.
There is a realization you get when you cut yourself really bad.

Its that split second before the nerve ending explode and pain begins, its the mental realization of how bad it is going to be.

Now, add that the the feeling of being kicked in the balls. (Bear with me, ladies.)

Combine the two and you are in the right neighborhood of me right then.

When you are trying to pack up a laptop and accessories there is only so much speeding up you can do.

Also, the Fat Man began eating his coffee/scone/oatmeal.

I have written and erased several descriptions and 75% of them used some sort of creepy sexual imagery.

Suffice to say it was not pleasant and just left me feeling dirty. Like I needed both a shower and an exorcism just to feel clean enough to begin therapy.

I used to like those scones too.

 
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Posted by on April 10, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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The problem is that your dumb.

When I was growing up Evelyn Wood was a unicorn.

Let me explain.

Evelyn Wood Reading Dynamics was a speed reading course who’s commercials played non-stop on the radio and the pre-cable low end channels, 5 and 9.

The reason she was a unicorn was that, despite the fact that her program was advertised everywhere, I never found anyone that had actually bought it.

Till now.

There is a lady at the next table at Starbucks that is averaging a page every 8 seconds.

Its pretty impressive.

She has 3 books on her table and I have no doubt she will finish them today.

And then what does she have planned?

Cure cancer? Bring about world peace? Fix the economy?

And then, when she got up to go to the bathroom, and hit me up for some change because “I need to get something to eat” it occurred to me exactly what her plans were.

Meth.

Glad thats out of the way, I hate unsolved mysteries, both the show and in life.

While I am thinking about it, some mothers need to be shot.

Just wanted to get that out there while I am still looking at the 300 pound 7 year old in line with his mother.

And I am sure that if you confronted mom she would peddle some song and dance about thyroid issues and such.

However, there is not a 7 year old alive that needs 3 cranberry/orange scones in one sitting.

The kid is not fat, he is being created in a fat image.

He is going to have to deal with mom’s sloppy parenting skills for the rest of his life.

I wish you well kid, your battle will be an uphill one at best, if the battle can be won at all.

To many times I have run across the parent that has no clue how to parent.

They want to be their child’s best friend.

Good ambition, but that comes later.

Till then, give “Being a parent” a shot.

Set some boundaries, smack a few asses and ground them a few times.

When my kids were little, there was a friend that informed me that I was too strict and that I needed to be more of a friend, let them make their own mistakes.

Lets roll 15 years later.

Both of my kids turned out awesome, the boy has a solid career, doesn’t touch drugs by choice, and his sister is an A student with a solid head on her shoulders. I have a good relationship with both.

Arrogantly proud father here. I am a bit of a dick about it.

The friend with the parenting advice? Both kids went down that drug road and have little to do with their parents.

So, when I throw out some wisdom, understand that I only do so because I know more than you do.

Accept it and lets move on.

Thinking of getting one of those scones, they are so tasty.

I will have to buy my own.

Because you know that kid won’t share with me.

 
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Posted by on February 24, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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