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  • Writer's pictureMarko

Fat People

Updated: Feb 12, 2020


This girl can’t stand fat people. They’re everywhere. The streets are full of barrel-bellies, bouncing jelly-tits and porky legged caricatures of people. Disgusting. Don’t these people have any self-discipline? It’s not that hard to lose weight. Just eat less and do some exercise. I am sick and tired of these visual handicaps. Nowadays you see them even in TV all the time. In the good old times fatsos didn’t have any chance to get to the telly. We live in strange times.


That reminds me. I perhaps should not, but I’ll open a second chocolate bar. To balance that I drink always only sugar free soda. They’ll sort of cancel each other out, don’t they? And I really should eat something proper. Last night I ate only crisps but then again I drank a lot of beer. Beer gives you plenty vitamins and minerals. I kid you not, beer has a lot of vitamin B, sodium, potassium, magnesium, calcium, silicon, phosphorus and sulfur. I got a lot of that stuff last night. I wonder if cocktails have similar good stuff? Don’t know. If I remember correctly I might have had a few gin tonics, margaritas and vodka batteries in the night club. I did ask the bartender to use sugar free sodas. Don’t know if he actually used. Couldn’t see in that crowd and in the heat of the Tuesday night fever.


I throw the plastic wrap away and notice an empty kebab box in the trash can. Oh shit, did I eat junk food after the club? Again? I can’t remember anything, so that treat went totally to waste. I wonder if you should count the calories if you cannot remember eating? Joke, joke. Of course you should. I think one shouldn’t, though. Shit. I really love kebab.


But back to fat people. I really can’t stand them. Why don’t they have some respect for themselves, not to mention others? They should at least think about other people, if they don’t care about their own body or health. Sometimes it’s disgusting to even walk the streets. Last Friday at the pizza buffet there was a family so gross that I almost lost my appetite. Father, mother and two ugly fat kids all from the same mold. Diabetes transferring from one generation to another, not to mention other health hazards. Luckily I managed to maintain myself although they were sitting right next to me. I nibbled pizza slices for over an hour until they finally left. Only after that I moved to the cake and ice cream. I really love cake.


I go to toilet and manage to twist out some huge hangover tarts, a real python among them. I must have lost at least three kilos in the can, so it’s a good time to go to the scale. I wonder how many fatsos have a scale? A little thing like that could help them lose weight.


Shit. There must be something wrong with the scale. It shows over hundred kilos. Again. I should get it fixed. This is not right. It puts my mind low. I should buy a better scale.


I have to think positive. I am an exception. I know that. I have big bones and my tits alone weight at least five kilos a piece. If I were a man or I had small boobs I would be almost normal weight. At least I would have more motivation to lose those 33 or so kilos to reach my ideal weight. And how do you count the IBW anyway? Who decided that I should lose 33 kilos? Some generic calculation that does not understand that I am different from other people?


Believe me, I have tried everything: my fridge is full of light spreads, low fat sausages, light mayonnaise, sugar free coke and low fat cheese. It’s terrifying to think what some people put into their mouths. I eat red meat or pizza max three times a week and fast food only in emergencies. I eat lots of fruits and vegetables and five pieces of dark chocolate every day. Enjoy nut bars and drink green tea. If there is a light option at the supermarket I will buy that. Not all the products are available in healthy versions, of course. There is no point to buy low calorie beer because it has less alcohol so that one should drink double amount to get the same result as with normal beer. This applies in fact to quite many products, and as a side note may I add that I don’t drink beer every day. No sir. But sometimes you have to relax to keep on going, and in any case it’s better to drink booze than to use illegal drugs or pills. They have less calories for sure, but this gal does not touch that stuff. No way. My motto is to keep the Yin and Yang in the balance. You work hard and you play hard. Me being unemployed does not change the fact that life can be shitty sometimes. You can not go on with life if the Cosmos is not in balance.


When nothing works it eats one’s motivation. And I have tried everything. I tried jogging but soon my knees started hurting. My best friend Ann said I should bicycle or swim because of my weak knees, but I don’t own a bike and the swimming pool is so damn far away. So, exercise is sort of out of the question. And what does Ann know? She quit her yearly subscription for her gym only after three days. Paid for the whole year and didn’t get a refund.


Whenever I manage to lose a couple of kilos they come back with revenge the next week. Scale can show two kilos more in the evening than in the morning. If my eating habits and lifestyle are already so super healthy, what more can I do? In some ways I understand those regular fatsos who at least try. Good luck to you all, sincerely. I know what it’s like. If I had not been on a diet all my life I would weight at least fifty kilos more. So, if you think like this my diet has been one of the most successful diets in the world. I should actually congratulate myself. Maybe I’ll treat myself another chocolate bar, or something. But the other people, those who don’t even care. Those actually fat, overweight mockeries of human beings, shame on you all! Besides: in my own mind I am and have always been optimum weight. That’s a huge difference.


And what about women who don’t even use make-up? I use make-up every day. I care about my appearance, unlike some others. Real fatsos have usually ugly hair too. I take care of my beautiful long hair. I am hundred percent sure that when people see me they don’t think that ‘hey, there goes another fatso’. They think, like my boyfriend Pex once so romantically said to me, that there goes a beautiful woman who takes care of herself. She has great big tits and she is round from all the right places. There is something to grab from, she is no skinny bitch. Pex knows. He jokes that at least he owns one thing that goes from zero to hundred and twenty in 10 seconds. That’s his scale.


I think about this kind of stuff every other day. I am not stupid, you know. I know I should get my shit together and try harder. Seriously. That’s why I’ll start a new diet, the mother of all diets, next week. I will eat only one piece of crisp bread a day. Nothing else. Some TV host lost twenty kilos that way. Next week my kilos will go for a ride, literally, because Pex said he will get me an exercise bike from his uncle who died of a heart attack. It’s totally unused.


But next week will be next week and before that we will live normal life and maybe even load the batteries for the coming race. Put some gasoline in the tank, so to speak. After all, weekend is just a few days away and my best friend will have a birthday party on Friday. And Pex will play some records at the The Venue on Saturday and that club doesn’t close until morning.


Now I have to stop, because Pex is ringing the bell. He threatened to bring pizza. I said that he should not. But if he brings, we will of course have to eat it. Otherwise it would go to waste. Mother always said that we should eat everything we are offered. That the children in Africa don’t have food, but we have. That we should sort of eat also for the African children.


I just hope that he will not bring beer. Although he always does.

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