I Fucking Hate Your Mom.
She was in front of me at the grocery store yesterday, wearing her favorite Conway-issue green velour jumpsuit. The clingy fabric outlined every ripple in her cellulite, only made worse over the years by the birthing of you and the rest of the fatherless bastard gang. Worst of all was the fraudulent logo emblazoned across her backside, which quivered and palpitated like a pair of dueling bowls of Jell-o with each thunderous step and made me want to lose 20 pounds immediately. She was arranging her fat into a leisurely pace when she saw me heading for the checkout, and promptly quickened to a gravity-defying canter so that she could get in line before me and avoid having to wait the 45 seconds it would take to ring up my pack of gum and US Weekly. To tell you the truth, I could have gotten there before her, but I have a shade of respect for the disabled.
Clearly this was more exercise than your mom had gotten since the last time she was able to see her feet without sitting (roughly 1992), and a gross ring of sweat had lodged itself on her brow. She didn't bother wiping it away since reaching for her forehead places an unnatural tension on her arm chub. She puffed and started unloading her shit as I exchanged an uncomfortable glance with the Korean shop owner guy.
I had to wait for five minutes for your mom to get her shit together enough to place about five mega-caloric items on the counter, and another five while she produced a wallet that she had to wade through her monstrous blubbery thighs to find. And another five still while she heaved the bag down and actually rotated her hippopotamic person enough to be able to head for the door by following a straight line.
It made me want to take her picture and show it to little boys so they know what hell awaits them if they don't peer pressure their future wives into a ten-year eating disorder.
Dude, fuck you and fuck your mom.
Clearly this was more exercise than your mom had gotten since the last time she was able to see her feet without sitting (roughly 1992), and a gross ring of sweat had lodged itself on her brow. She didn't bother wiping it away since reaching for her forehead places an unnatural tension on her arm chub. She puffed and started unloading her shit as I exchanged an uncomfortable glance with the Korean shop owner guy.
I had to wait for five minutes for your mom to get her shit together enough to place about five mega-caloric items on the counter, and another five while she produced a wallet that she had to wade through her monstrous blubbery thighs to find. And another five still while she heaved the bag down and actually rotated her hippopotamic person enough to be able to head for the door by following a straight line.
It made me want to take her picture and show it to little boys so they know what hell awaits them if they don't peer pressure their future wives into a ten-year eating disorder.
Dude, fuck you and fuck your mom.
posted by Attica Wolfcastle, Esq. at 2:28 PM
4 Comments:
Spooky pic. It's amazing how fast they can move when they want to, isn't it?
i know its wrong, but that is sort of HOT
..maybe im just a sucker for green jumpsuits
..or i wasnt brought up right as a child
Hehe she looks like that excretory product evacuated from someone's innards.
Enter Fat spiel:
As some of you may know, the human genome has been mapped, there have been 2 Genes identified which makes people prone to weight gain.
Now let's say you were unlucky enough to have BOTH of these genes....Would you like to know how many extra calories you'd have to deal with? 80kcal per day....
In other words you'd have to eat maybe half a packet of crisps less than a 'normal' person each day, thus there are no viable genetic excuses for being fat.
Oh you say, oh but my metabolism is slow? Nope sorry fatty, poor excuse, the human metabolic rate changes with size, it isn't fixed, and it will ALWAYS adjust to you being naturally thin.
Diets don't work for you? Sorry fat arse, diets do work, the reason ppl think they don't, is because you never hear about the success stories, all you hear about is fat ppl on tv whinging about how they don't work for them, diets DO work, you eat less, you lose weight.....Mom!
Sorry, kind of got carried away there...
yikes, thats scary
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