Because sometimes a status update just isn't enough.

Because sometimes a status update just isn't enough.

06 February 2012

The Great Refatting

Wanna bet?

As I may or may not have mentioned before, I've been fattening myself up like a champion sumo wrestler since moving to New York.  I've never been one of those people who "can't eat" when they're depressed... (I put that in "air quotes" because it literally makes no sense to me... I'm not even sure it's a thing...) 

I'm one of those people who self-soothes with carbs.  If I could do the back-stroke in a tub full of Good n Plentys I could probably be taken off of anti-depressants.

True, sad, sad, story.

Being thin has never come easily for me.  I'm a short girl who likes to eat more than she likes to move.  I'd rather take the elevator than the stairs (or even the escalator... that involves more walking than the elevator), I will cruise a parking lot for days until a space close to the front opens up, and if I could get one of those little chairs that carts me up and down the stairs in my apartment building, I'd be all over that like stink on shit.  

I want one of those little robots that vacuum for you while you sit on your ass and read.  And eat cookies.   Which you wash down with Diet Pepsi.

Ah, such lofty goals I have for myself!

My idea of a dream vacation involves a fancy hotel room with a jacuzzi tub and room service.  I don't even want to get out of the tub to answer the door... I want that food delivered to me tub-side.  

You will never catch me hiking up the side of a mountain, or running a marathon, or even, for that matter, jogging on purpose.  I'm not one of those happy fatties who enjoys hiking, biking and having fun, or who is more than willing to don a Miracle suit and splash around like a baby whale in the turquoise waters of Cabo San Lucas.  

If I go to the gym and work out, it's because I'm fat and not happy about it.  I'm the cranky bitch sweating and swearing on the treadmill, resenting the hell out of all the "Oh, I forgot to eat..." skinny cwords and hoping they all choke on a celery stick.  

And it isn't that I'm lazy, because I'm not.  I will work my ass off when necessary.  It's just that I can always think of something better to do other than exercise.

Like, for example, blogging.

Anyway, here's the cold, hard, ugly truth:

I've gained 30 lbs since moving to NY.

That's (for those of you who like visuals) 120 cubes of butter.

It's also a couple of pants sizes.

And a roll of lard around my mid-section.

And face.

And neck.

And back.

Oh dear Lord, the back fat...

I'm too sexy for my back fat... too sexy for my back fat...

And the muffin top...

Mmmm... muffins...

(Sorry, I got distracted.)

Muffin top:

I want the pink one...

Okay, let's try this one more time  (Did you say cake?):

Anyway, I'm down to one pair of pants that I can actually button.  I can't sit down or breathe in them, but I CAN button them.  I appear to be growing an extra chin and my boobs are out of control.  All in all, I've reached a crisis of epic proportions.

This calls for extreme measures.


I forced myself to go on the People of Walmart website and look for people fatter than I am to make myself feel better.

(A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.)

These are the Winning Fatties who made me feel okay today:

I would totally be the pretty one... 

I would never wear elastic waist pants...

Excuse me, Miss?  I think you're dropping something...

Whoops... I forgot to put my boob away!  I hate when that happens...

(Sidebar:  Do you ever look at the pictures of the People of Walmart and secretly worry that you might find one of yourself?  *pause*  Yeah, me neither.)

Well, I feel better now.

Meanwhile, is this not the coolest thing ever?

Is that a dude?

Okay, no, not that.

I was looking for something else and that popped up and I became momentarily confused.


No, not that either.  But I can totally do that.  Totally.  In fact, that might be me.  Only with better hair.  And no way would I wear those shoes with that dress.  Or anything else, for that matter.  

Where was I?

Oh yes.


That's pretty much the only way you'd ever catch my ass scuba diving.  


  1. I think you're ok. Unless you are at the "can't see the bikini bottoms because of the overhang of fat" stage, I'd say you are still alright. But that doesn't mean maybe you should still go to the gym.

    If it makes you feel better, I've gained almost 30 pounds in the last year, and I don't even have a move to NY excuse. There, all better, right? RIGHT?

    1. Solidarity, sistah! Thank you for gaining 30 lbs just to make me feel better. I love you forever.

  2. I too am bordering on colossal fatassdom. My fat pants became my "everyday" pants. I, sadly, have an event coming up next month & HAVE to put my fat ass on the treadmill, eat salad, avoid junk food (my favorite flavor of food), and drink a shit ton of water. I'd better be the cutest bitch there after all this shit!!

    1. I prefer googling fatties.

      And you WILL be the cutest bitch there!! Also? Morgan Spurlock can kiss my ass for that Supersize Me movie. All I can say is boyfriend is LUCKY he didn't do it on Taco Bell, because then I would have had to cut a bitch.

    2. I'd have had to take that mofo out if he did his "Documentary" on Five Guys or DQ!! Mama NEEDS her some bacon cheeseburgers & banana split blizzards!!
      Thanks for the vote of confidence!!

  3. Holy Shitballs - those are some good pictures. I think I feel okay now about my fatdom - or maybe it was the chocolate scones I made earlier.

    I sometimes worry about the walmart people, I worry that they might catch me taking their pictures and laughing...but them I think...I so could out run them (maybe)

    1. I dunno, mama... those scooters go pretty fast!!!

  4. Hahha that scuba diving pic is kickass. It's hard NOT to gain weight, when sitting and eating are best.

    1. That's why I've always wanted to go on a cruise... I can travel while sitting around drinking umbrella rum drinks and shoveling food down my throat around the clock.


  5. I'm not exactly sure what is happening in that last pic. Is she on a motorized scuba scooter?

    1. Motorized. Scuba. Scooter.

      How freaking awesome is that?

      It takes all the work out of underwater sports. Plus I think you can outrun a shark in one.

  6. It's unbelievable that anyone that fat can stay under water... Must be a special engine.

    1. It's the jet pack that's motoring the scuba scooter.

      It cancels out the buoyancy of the blubber.

      I know these thing.

  7. Oh my holy begeezus. I need a cookie...

    1. For cookie porn, might I suggest you check out

      Mmmmmm cookiessss... mmmmmmm...

      (I'm sorry if you said anything other than "cookies"... all I heard was "cookies...")

  8. I can't decide if I need the elliptical or a baked good!

    1. The baked good lasts longer.

      20 minutes on the elliptical v forever on the hips...

      It's a no brainer.

      I pick cookie. Every. Time.

  9. I think the 30lbs thing must be a virus. My husband and I both caught it last year, even way down here in Austin. We are still waiting for the miracle cure that does not involve "eating less and exercising more". We don't believe in that snake oil mumbo jumbo they're pushing.


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