The logical thing any (skinny) person will say is, if you’re unhappy with your weight then do something about it. Then the slow motion montage will begin to play with inspirational, heroic music going on in the background. You will see it like it always happens in the movies; young, fat, usually painfully plain girl with no visible skills or talent, suddenly fed up with being the butt (harhar) of mean jokes, takes a stand and decides to change, jogs up and down wearing different coloured t-shirts until she’s suddenly this curvy, lanky, sexy and talented thing.
Why don’t all chubby girls do this, I hear you say, in your thin voice directly proportional to your body?
Because, real life.
Sleep is really your most affordable reward to yourself and the weather is finally cold. Why give up those extra thirty minutes of warmth in the mornings to go jogging? It’s not like you don’t run up and down enough at work.
Plus, the chance of being molested to some degree whilst on a morning run that early in the day always rears it’s ugly head at one.
When you do begin to work out, it’s when muscles you didn’t even know about begin to hurt and you know the jogging is working, that’s when you stop. Again.
Ok, stay indoors and skip or do sit ups? The problem with sit ups is the pain laughter brings after like the first week, and after that it’s just so easy to stop again. I mean, what darkest sorcery makes laughing painful!
And cut down on food?! Why in tarnations… But food is so lovely, and you don’t eat much of it, except when those cravings come along… and of course, those occasional midnight snacks while watching tv…
But the truth is, it’s only when you say you want to fast or diet that your body suddenly has to have food, or else faint.
Now, there’s the drug angle. I don’t mean weight loss drugs, I mean DRUGS. You know how Pam in Archer lost a buncha weight over the space of a few episodes simply because she was addicted to cocaine? (Maybe my addiction to Coke can help?) Quite frankly, that idea appeals to me. The results were so drastic. I mean, Pam, with her old lady hair and clothes, transformed into this sexy young thing with humongous boobs… The mind boggles, people.
Now apart from realizing you’ve outgrown all your favorite clothes, there’s the shame that comes if you are round, but not thick. Thick is a wonderful description for a woman with a voluptuous baddy. I mean, a baddy that is all WOHMAN. *humming* I want yo baddy sleepin in mah beeeed…
Hourglass shape, flat tum, big thighs and bum and lovely jugs.
Being fat, but not thick, is a whole other issue on its own. My bum is sufficient for my needs, but that’s about it. It does not, nor has it ever, stopped traffic or caused a grown man to walk into a tree, sadly.
Minute of silence to ponder on bums that have gone through life without causing commotion.
I read this hilarious but honest article on dieting. It talks about how bloody hard and annoying it is trying to stay away from “fattening” foods. The writer says it’s impossible to stay away from bread, and bread is the silent fattener.
Now, I don’t know how well you know me, but let’s just say; my uncle calls me The Bread Merchant. Bottom line on the topic of roundness; somebody’s got to do it.