fat ass

don’t hate me because i shave and use soap; and, why farm animals can’t resist me

by Shauna on December 21, 2008

you know how so many times i get on here and scream that i need an intervention?

well, this time i’m not kidding.

i need a intervention and i need it NOW.

i’ve known for some time that my scale is a f*%#!ing liar, but now my jeans are turning against me. where the blasted scale is concerned i’ve always thought, “hmm, the sticker on the bottom of it says it’s made in germany and well, the germans secretly hate all americans (because we shave and practice good hygiene), so they’ve probably rigged it so it reads heavier–just to fuck with us.”

but people, jeans. do not. lie.

i slipped on my favorite pair yesterday (and when i say “slipped them on” i mean i wriggled about and wrangled them over my enormous ass and had to suck in to zip them up. and then i had trouble breathing…and walking.) side note: anybody missing a small calf? i found one attached to my backside. he’s cute as a button, but he cannot stay. with him there, there’s absolutely no room for the pig and i refuse to become a barn for farm animals. one animal attached to your ass is a novelty, 2 or more–chaos. and i’m pretty sure animal control would get involved. i’m no expert, but i think you need a permit for these kinds of activities.

i bent up and down and up and down, trying to stretch them out. i blamed their tightness on the fact that they’d just been washed. but then i noticed a giant queso stain on the upper thigh and was quickly able to debunk that theory. blasted holidays.

maybe the problem is the sweets that are currently atop my kitchen counters. correction, the sweets that USED to be there. i’ve single handedly taken care of them. there are none left. somehow they’ve morphed into rolls of fat on my hips and thighs.

i blame the media. no, i blame the liberal media. all this talk of hope and change has really screwed with my good sensibility. i’m the first one to say that cupcakes and all you can eat buffets are not the answer. yet, i seem to have thrown all my smartness out the window! something has to change. if not, i’m going to be featured on one of those tawdry talk shows. you know the ones. they’ll feature the fat girl (me, in this scenario) in my home where i’m a prisoner in my bed because i can’t get up. they’ll raise money for a crane to knock out a wall so that the smokin hot firemen can hoist me on a flat bed trailer and ship me off the fat camp. the audience will cheer. i’ll be so happy to feel the sunlight on my face at the same time wondering if the food is any good where i’m going.

please send help. but whatever you do, don’t send food! well, unless it’s chocolate chip cookies. i can’t resist those.

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open letter to the fat girl who lives inside me

by Shauna on August 5, 2008

dear porkzilla,

something has got to give. your overindulgence is becoming a problem for me and my jeans. i feel it’s necessary to address your chips and queso addiction head-on.

first, just because there’s a perfectly good and gooey cinnamon roll left on the plate doesn’t mean you have to inhale it in one bite–or at all. you could just as easily throw it in the garbage can or walk outside and hurl it out onto the yard. birds need food too.

a bag of m&m’s left carelessly in the backseat of the car doesn’t require you to shove a fistful in your mouth and then audibly moan at its chocolaty goodness. no. plus all that red dye isn’t good for our complexion. i think. or something like that. anyway, m&m’s are NOT the answer.

and contrary to what you may have heard, donuts are NOT the new black. although if you don’t stop eating donuts we’ll only be able to wear black so we can try and mask the obvious many rolls that have collected in our belly region. black is not a miracle worker, it is merely a color.

pizza looks tasty, i know. and one piece of cheese or veggie pizza is probably not a bad food decision. however, eating 1/2 a large pepperoni pizza IN THE CLOSET SO NO ONE WILL FIND US–AND POSSIBLY WANT SOME–AND BY GOD WE ARE NOT SHARING!–sends a message that says, “i think i have a problem.” that’s just a guess. i could be wrong, but i doubt it.

now, this next part is going to be a little tricky because i don’t want to offend you, but the drinking has gotten out of hand. oy vey, you and your pinot grigio. exactly how many calories do you think is in one glass? and while we’re discussing ‘glass’ size, an iced tea glass filled to the top does not count as 1 glass of wine. it’s like 3. and if you’re able to fit an entire bottle of wine in a ‘glass,’ that does not count as 1 either. you might want to go back to school and re-learn math. just a thought. i know it’s easy to want to gloss over liquid calories, but they’re there and they count. life’s a bitch–get over it.

and here’s a thought–eat a salad. you are not going to die without cheeseburgers and fries with cheese and bacon and jalapenos. i know this sounds preposterous, but lettuce and tomato will sustain you. crazier things have happened.

look, you may not care that when we pass by a mirror it takes our ass 5 minutes to catch up, but i do. i don’t like that it looks as if we’re holding someone hostage in the back of our pants. and people are starting to get suspicious because it appears to be moving independently of us. i don’t want to have to explain to the police that no, we did not kidnap an overweight kid and shove him in our jeans, that’s just our ass and he likes to dance a jig.

do whatever you need to stop the madness. eat lean cuisines, do 50 jumping jacks after every bite of food, hell, buy ADD medication off the internet. what could it hurt? i know m&m’s are not the answer, but maybe taking speed is.

just please stop eating everything you see. despite recent events, you are NOT a garbage disposal. and i refuse to buy bigger clothes.

sincerely,
the bitch who runs this ship who will kick your ass if you don’t get control of yourself.

just say no! (to mexican food)

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