New Entry: Now with twice as many calories!

There was a time long ago when being fat was considered attractive. Being portly meant that you had the money to afford large quantities of food, and therefore obesity was an admirable quality. There came a time however when people came to realize that fat people are gross and rather than finding plump suitors women decided to simply sleep with everybody in the hopes that they eventually hit a rich one. With the advent of cheap artery clogging fast food, the days of heaviness as a sign of financial dependability are gone. Being fat nowadays defines you as lazy, unattractive, buoyant, and applicable for a job in niche pornography.

We’re now living in a society where it’s acceptable to openly mock fat people. It’s wrong to ridicule people of color, midgets, or the handicapped because we’re taught that it’s wrong to judge people based on the way they look. Unless of course, they jiggle.

I bring this issue up because it’s an important aspect of my life. I grew up obese and when I turned 13 I lost a lot of the weight. I recently found it. I weigh myself occasionally to maintain a constant weight, and although it fluctuates slightly it generally stays relatively constant. I weighed myself recently after an extended hiatus and I was surprised by what my scale said. It said ‘Ow, get off!’

Gaining weight is a scary issue for me namely because of my childhood. As I said, I grew up obese and it was hard. As any fat kid, ugly girl, or minority knows, kids can be very cruel. In order to survive adolescence at that age you have to develop some kind of defense mechanism. Whether it be a sense of humor, an increased intellect, or rich grandparents, you’ve gotta have something that all those skinny fuckers don’t-- for me it was all three. Unfortunately when I started losing weight my grades dropped, my sharp sense of humor faded, and my grandparents started dying.

Obesity complicates things. For example, when you’re a fat kid you have to develop your own terms for things. The ‘see-saw’ became known as ‘the catapult.’ There were ‘swings,’ or as I called them ‘break-and-falls’ and of course ‘women,’ or as I called them ‘just friends.’ Stairs were out of the question, as they were nothing more than broken escalators and the closest thing to a treadmill I ever used was the moving sidewalk in the airport, which of course never did anything because it always went in the direction I was walking—towards the food court.

The whole process is a vicious cycle. As you gain more weight you feel worse and worse about yourself and the pain you feel grows. As the saying goes you ‘eat your pain away,’ unless of course you’re eating broken glass. Afraid of re-entering this cycle of chili-dogs and timbits I took preventative measures; I bought a ‘Bowflex’ machine. To pay for it I decided to use it and open up my own gym. The first guy that showed up was furious. I explained to him that it was a home gym but he was having none of it, so I refunded his money and returned the machine.

Nowadays, as I continue to expand, panic is beginning to set in. I’m desperate to lose weight and I’m willing to do anything other than exercise and eat right. I’ve heard that many of these fad diets all over the news work amazingly well for the small percentage of people that they don’t kill. Unfortunately, I love bread and hate grapefruit. Maybe I'll just learn to accept myself the way I am and not care so much what people think of me.

After all, I've always wanted to try niche porn.