Fat Cunts: Decoded

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Okay. I freely admit to being a sexist pig, but In this instance I’m using the word cunt to refer to both genders. As an American, I am completely surrounded by obese people. My threshold for tolerating the robust portion of my neighbors has burst like so many ruptured arteries. I understand that there exists a tiny minority of fat fucks who genuinely cannot change their affliction. Those with legitimate medical maladies are excused from this attack. But, with that being said this subset is much smaller than bloated society would have us believe.


This is a website devoted to pointing fingers at people who have achieved the pedestrian status of being idiots. With that in mind, let’s move our accusatory index finger at those whose gluttony has brought them to be the subject of my current razing. You know who I’m talking about. How could you not? They are everywhere and they are impossible to miss. Fat people. Ironically, fat people have mastered the art of hiding in plain sight by becoming so commonplace, that it’s rarely mentioned anymore.


I miss the shame associated with being over weight. Let’s face it, most fattos have no one to blame for their condition other than themselves. This sounds cold, but in my experience it’s the rule rather than the exception. Too many calories, not enough exercise. It’s rampant, and I refuse to coddle them in any fashion. Shame is a great motivator, and I think this tool to be far underused when addressing the obese population. Has the human potential movement come so far that even people who have stuffed themselves to extreme levels are immune to ridicule? Well, not for me.


In almost every personal encounter I have with fat people, it’s simply sloth. It sounds simple, and assumptive but it’s true. Perhaps it’s a mental malady I don’t grasp that causes them to miss the fundamental link between calories taken in and calories burned via exercise. It’s about as basic as you can get when it comes to health awareness . If you eat like a pig, and your only exertion for the day is flipping on the television, you get fat. I feel horrible spelling that simple equation out, but that’s just it. It’s that simple. We are a nation of convenience, and our belt sizes have taken the brunt of the blow.


I’m mildly sympathetic to those who genuinely try to lose the weight and can’t, and some of those unfortunate porkers fall under the previously mentioned medical umbrella. But, for the majority I have no sympathy. Sure, it’s a long road back to fitness considering the gross amount of sedentary activity the average American wallows in. Tough shit. You pig out, you don’t compensate for the horrible diet, you pay the price. I’m extremely weary of fat people playing the victim role. Fuck off. Leather up Jabba, and hit the treadmill.


Personally, I have no grounds to demonize people for their diet. I eat garbage for the most part. red meat, salty snacks, the entire spectrum of fried foods. The difference is I exercise like a demon. I have chosen a day job that requires extensive physical labor. Most people see this job trait as a backslide. I don’t. I have the common sense to realize that if I’m going to eat like a pig, I have to work like a horse. I may have a slightly different metabolism then others, but I guarantee that if our inflated subjects spent a summer turning wrenches outdoors, in a Texas summer, the weight would not be an issue. It’s a trade off, a balance of toil versus reward. I don’t have a climate controlled office job, but I have the benefit of not having to go to the gym after work. I may die prematurely from a heart attack, but dammit I’ll be a good looking corpse.


Obesity is an epidemic because we, as a country, are lazy cunts. If you have been offended by this installment because you yourself are a porcine participant perusing this particular passage, EXERCISE MORE. That’s it. If you exercise like mad and you’re still fat, eat better. Your inability to regulate your weight does not entitle you to victim status. You are being made an example of, because you should be. I hope that my vitriol gives you that extra umph you need to do that extra lap, that extra mile, or another set of reps to bring you back to the land of attractive people. If not, you’re still fat and I find that as hilarious as I do tragic.


Happy eating.