Archive for the ‘Hungry Hungry Hippos’ Category

There’s no better way to start your week than getting down into the slop with squealing pigs, but in the porcine annals of oinkery this magnificent squeal must rank as one of the most try-hard, butthurt boar bleats ever to disgrace a social media trough. The title alone could convince the judges to give her straight 10s for porkingsthatneverhappened.txt.

I’m Fat And I Have Sex With Hot Strangers

Mic drop. Or should I say, meatloaf drop.

I could just post her photo and stop there, nothing else needing to be said.

If bed frames could cry.

This human-pig hybrid’s shrieking id is a sight to behold. She must have the fattest rationalization hamster in the known universe. (Obligingly, CH crowns her the Hamster of the Month winner.)

First, she tries to lull the reader into complacent acceptance of her wild claims to come by throwing out a morsel, or twenty, of preemptive candor.

I am fat — not curvy, fat. I have a fat stomach and I jiggle when I walk.

“jiggle” = flesh tsunami. Now I’m not saying she’s fat, but when she wades into the ocean Indonesians head for high ground.

Society tells me that this is a radical notion.

Did we sleep in class during all those years of stentorian Chateau inculcation? Society tells you nothing, moocow. It’s the God of Biomechanics who deems your lard disgusting to the vast majority of people. Even to fellow fatties!

It’s not. There are more girls like me out there. We just aren’t given space to be visible.

How much space do you need? The Great Plains?

I feel like I was put on this earth to be colorful and take up space

So were landfills.

and I am not ashamed.

Keep telling yourself.. and everyone else.. that.

We are told by the media that we need to live in shame, stop eating seventeen cheeseburgers,

That’s an oddly precise number.

We are told to wear something “more flattering” and “not to show so much skin” and “put your boobs away Melissa, you are scaring the children.”


Oh, I’m sorry, I would have cleavage even if I wore a turtleneck and I’m sick of trying to hide it.

Fat pigs love to assert a phony pride in their tits. But sacs of amorphous blubber don’t an attractive bust make. That’s not cleavage, Miss Piggy, that’s a sandworm lair.

My own father told me when I was 10 years old that no man would ever want to hold my hand unless I lost weight and stopped biting my fingernails.

Father of the Year. Not kidding. She only had to listen…

LOL@dad, they want to do so much more than hold hands now.

F YOU DAD, giving blowjobs in the dark to drunk losers is where I’m at now!

I am fat and I have casual sex with strangers, attractive strangers even.

That “even” is such a deadweight giveaway. Translation: once, a long time ago when she wasn’t yet fully fattened for the slaughter, she scissored with a lesbian who actually made the effort to trim her bush and shoo the parrots and monkeys out.

It was an impromptu mini vacation before I move to Portland to go back to school for my art degree, start a boudoir photography business and live amongst other body-positive, sex-positive women like myself and the beautiful beards that love us.

Who can tell parody from reality anymore?

I started swiping right on men and women on Tinder as I waited to deplane at LAX.

“Deplane, boss, deplane!” “No, that’s not a plane, Tattoo, it’s a fattie.”

I follow Amber Rose on Instagram and I find it infuriating watching other women tear each other down for what they choose to do with their own bodies.

The shunning of disfigured mental disease vectors is required.

I also find equally disturbing the entitlement some men demonstrate when a woman chooses to display any amount of skin or overt sexuality in their presence.

Men’s attractiveness standards are required. (Overt female sexuality is only offensive to men when it emerges like a reverse fat caterpillar from a size XXXXXXL chrysalis (a hard-shelled fupa).)

To me, being called a slut isn’t degrading.

The extra 200 pounds set her degradation bar high.

I see it as empowering and symbolic of me taking ownership over what I choose to do with MY body.

Stuff it full of cheap carbs until her days are an endless bloat parade of joint pain, labored breathing, smegma farming, and romantic failure.

My fat beautiful curvy soft body.

Ya know, slender women have curvy, soft bodies, too. So you don’t have that going for you, fatty.

Much to my surprise, people in LA utilize Tinder’s “Super Like” option like nobody’s business, making my quest for adventure that much easier.

Like pizza delivery.

Before I got to my first hotel I was talking to six or seven very attractive strangers.

“very attractive strangers”. The porky pig’s try-hard protestation is so transparent. Reality: these very attractive strangers looked like extras from the Star Wars cantina scene.

I have found that most men who want casual sex aren’t creeps or rapists.

Fat woman standards are very flexible, unlike their joints.

They just want to feel pleasure and make a connection however brief, just like me.

“however brief” :lol: :lol:

Sex doesn’t have to be a big deal. Sex doesn’t need to equal love for it to be mind blowing.

The grapes, they are sour.

It can also be about mutual pleasure and the way two or more bodies fit and complement each other.

with the help of a crowbar.

I have a pretty strict vetting process for picking up men and I have never had any problems.

“Zero alternative dating options? Check.”

I have pictures on my Tinder profile that are quite suggestive.

of a rhino birth.

If a man can have a normal conversation with me without getting gross and demanding, I give him the green-light and we keep chatting for a bit until we agree to meet up.

Men, you don’t need game to pick up fatties. You can talk about the weather with her, if you want. What are you waiting for? (“a hindbrain transmutation”) oh, right.

I find it’s easy to pick up on the entitlement factor, and that is a major red flag.

Total loser goes out with uglyfat, has the gall to think this means she’ll put out for parking meter change.

Just because a woman is showing skin doesn’t mean you have the right to expect sex from her.

That’s not why the losers who go out with you expect sex. (hint: it’s the lsmv corpulence)

Sometimes we meet for coffee, sometimes we go on an actual date, sometimes I go to their house and we are having sex within 15 minutes and sometimes they come to my hotel room at 2am and we bond over Louis C.K. and then laugh a lot and start going at it and it feels like old friends.

I.e., she has given up on the dream of love and marriage.

This bed won’t stay empty for long.

The chicken wing bones will see to that.

I had my own multi-city-state Slut Walk in a different city every night, with my mom staying in a hotel room right across the hall.

Ever notice the typical Slut Walker is the kind of woman least likely to have the opportunity to slut it up with men? Something else to notice: mothers of grossly obese daughters are so despondent for their child’s romantic future that any display of sexuality, however skanky and soul-crushing, fills them with pride.

Oddly enough, two of my hookups visit Portland rather frequently. Round two has been discussed and I am sure will happen at some point in the future.

The triumph of hope over pump and dump.

Each guy was attractive in his own way

All of the men I have ever talked to have been nothing but complimentary about my body.

Fatties will believe anything.

I have never had anyone see me in person and walk away or stand me up.

They spotted her on the approach and darted into an alley for a quick, unnoticed escape.

I am currently the biggest I have ever been and at the same time I feel the sexiest and most present in my body that I have ever felt in my life.

What a coincidence.

I am no longer afraid of my desires or being naked in front of others.

I own my sexuality and my choices.

So do slender women, and they don’t have to lie about feeling sexy.

I have a certain number of sexy individuals to thank for that.

And those individuals are Channing Tatum, Brad Pitt, and Barack Obama.

And no, I’m not telling you my number.

(it’s large and in charge)

Well, fuckin phew, that was a hot mess.

The purpose of posts like this one, besides the slaking of very special hedonistic and aesthetic urges, is to brutally shame these shoggoths off the internet forever. Their fat pride is poison, their phony self-esteem is propaganda, and their feminist platitudes are comfort to fellow misfits providing rhetorical rationalizations to avoid taking any steps to genuinely improving themselves.

Shaming uglyfats into oblivion is not just fun, it’s a righteous moral imperative.

Whenever you read some fatty going on about how much men love her “””curves”””, and all the “””great sex””” she’s having with “””hot studs”””, you’ll know she’s lying to protect her ego from the Day of Mirrors. There are no hot studs in her bed. She is not having any sex, let alone great sex. And she will never know love in the way that a slender woman will know love.

This is the message fat chicks should be receiving, loud and clear and continually, if truth and beauty are your scene. Anything deviating from this cruel to be kind message of realtalk will only increase and amplify the ugliness, of body and mind and soul, in the world.

Read Full Post »

A hefty part of the reason for the high divorce rate has to do with the female version of marital abandonment: obesity.

When a girlfriend or wife gets fat and, ERGO, unattractive to her boyfriend or husband, she has in effect CHECKED OUT of the relationship. (Much like a man who has taken up drink or stopped attending to his woman’s emotional needs has checked out of their relationship.)

The fatted distaff no longer places any value on pleasing her man, and it should surprise no one with integrity that men who have been abandoned by their partners in this way (through a total refutation of the legitimacy of their male-specific desires) react by withdrawing themselves, setting up a reinforcing feedback loop that dooms the relationship.

I bring this up because recently America, fuck yeah! (re)assumed the number one spot on the worldwide obesity charts. Some of this girth increase is the negative externality of the steezer invasion, but not all. White women are getting fatter, too.

Here’s a photo contrasting a typical US school lunch with a typical Finnish school lunch:

Yes, that is a monster chocolate chip cookie in the upper left of the USA lunch tray. And for those wondering, that unidentifiable factory meat constituting the main US course is fried chicken nuggets.

PS: Game can save relationships (and marriages) because it will give men the skills to seduce better (read: thinner) quality women, which will have benefits — both individual and societal — that accrue for years after the first heady tumble in the sack.


Reader Benson adds,

The combination of the obesity epidemic and American women complaining about men’s “unrealistic expectations” really chaps me.

American women have it easier than anywhere in the world. Because there are so many fatsos, by just not being morbidly obese, an American woman can put herself in the top 50% of women looks-wise.

Being a healthy, optimal BMI puts her in the top 25%. And if she can manage to be 5 lbs under ideal weight, she is practically guaranteed to be the hottest woman in most rooms.

But even with bar set all the way down to “just don’t be fat”, American women can’t clear it.

Worse, they act like they are angry that they are expected to try.

Benson is right. According to the fundamental premise, men will, as a sex, have to put more work into attracting a mate than the work that women will have to do to attract a mate. (To their advantage, men have far more avenues to increase their SMV than do women, who simply have youth and beauty, and to a lesser extent femininity and faithfulness, to barter.)

Fatted distaffs who bitch about men’s expectations have no idea how little comparative effort they need to make to meet the expectations of the opposite sex. Yet another reason why feminist idiocy and fat apologia are corrosive to societal well-being.

Read Full Post »

A rich vein of Game material can be mined from the antics of attention whores. Why let a dumpy skank’s cry for attention go unexploited for profit with much cuter, thinner girls?

In any texting or messaging scenario with a Prime Femininity girl you want to gentlemanly court bang, there will be instances when she tries to

a. shit test you
b. qualify you
c. beta bait you with slutty flirting
d. flake on you
e. make you chase her
f. generally act bitchy and self-entitled
e. all of the above while in a late night alcoholic stupor

Instead of reaching deep into your mental storehouse of game knowledge for the perfect response, choose the Way of the Jerkboy and send a captionless pic to her that will have her hamster spinning frantically, her vagina flowering curiously, and her heart pounding recklessly.

GIRL: I can’t meet on Friday. I have a cat grooming class.


GIRL: You’re a really nice guy. Thanks for being there for me.


GIRL: Don’t get any ideas, I’m not gonna send you naked selfies.


It is my humble opinion that Lena Dunham Game represents the next level in the evolution of Emoji Game. Step aside, Birthday Cat, Lena Dunham is about to squat on you and turn you into a pickup diamond.


Commenter zodak adds [minor edits for comedic impact],

“this is the last thing her sister saw as she was about to be molested.”

I was about to put up a fourth pic of Lena, but I think everyone’s had enough for today. Or forever.


Great Caesar’s Ghost writes,

LaidNYC once said something like, “Tell a woman you like Lena Dunham, watch her agree. Tell a woman she reminds you of Lena Dunham, watch her rage.”

Women want to see the uglier of their sisters elevated (probably to act as pressure release valves for undersexed, uppity omega males), but they don’t want to be compared favorably to the fugs among them. Cognitive dissonance is the natural female state.

Read Full Post »

Another cherished feminist and equalist shitlibboleth falls. Fat chicks were never attractive to men. There never was a “fatopia” in history when low sexual market value manatees battled the patriarchy’s beauty standards and won. Fat women have ALWAYS been repulsive to the vast majority of men.

And CH has long been on record reminding the fat acceptors and fatty fat apologists that their quest to overturn men’s innate preference for slender babes is a quixotic one doomed to end in oleaginous tears.

As if ❤️SCIENCE❤️ hadn’t already stamped more than enough Chateau real world observations with its liberal-approved (heh) imprimatur, along comes another trove of historical research (re)discovering the wisdom of the ancients that men prefer slim-waisted beauties, and that this preference is about as universal as a human mate preference gets (h/t thejerk):

Slim waists have been the mark of attractive women throughout history, says a US scholar who has analysed thousands of ancient texts.

Dr Devendra Singh scoured references to fictional beauties from modern times back to early Indian literature.

He found that slimness was the most common term of praise from an author. […]

In the most recent research, he looked at how ‘attractive’ women were depicted in literature, analysing more than 345,000 texts, mainly from the 16th to 18th centuries.

While most of the writings were British and American, there was a small selection of Indian and Chinese romantic and erotic poetry dating from the 1st to the 6th century of the Christian era.

While the most-often mentioned feature was the breasts, waistlines were mentioned 66 times, with a slim waist predominantly linked to attractiveness.

Objective female beauty standards are timeless, unchangeable, and hated by the ugly, fat, and misshapen.

This shiv gleams with the bloody blubbery wetness of a skewered fatty, but the good doctor Singh has one more wound to carve in the distended porcine bellies of the slovenly shambling mounds.

Dr Singh said: “The common historical assumption in the social sciences has been that the standards of beauty are arbitrary, solely culturally determined and in the eye of the beholder.

“The finding that the writers describe a small waist as beautiful suggests instead that this body part – a known marker of health and fertility – is a core feature of feminine beauty that transcends ethnic differences and cultures.”

And that is why America has never been uglier, in body and spirit, than she is today, groaning under the weight of an obesity epidemic and fracturing from the tinnitus caused by the whiny wails of a million butthurt losers.


And that is not all the shiv we have today! There’s yet more shanky goodness. CH has written about the grade inflation in women’s dress sizes to accommodate, physically and psychologically, the zaftig proportions of the modern emporkered American woman with an ego as thin-skinned as her hide is thickly equipped.

And no wonder manufacturers have sought to “vanity size” their dresses for sale to a growing (heh) market of waddling wursts. The average American woman today weighs about as much as the average 1960s man! To my American male readers, the odds are good that you are banging a woman you’d have as much trouble throwing over your shoulder as you would have had with your father or grandfather in their primes. Sleep on that.

A follow-up to that CH post about women’s dress sizes comes via reader Critical Eye. Inflation strikes again:

A size 8 dress today is nearly the equivalent of a size 16 dress in 1958. And a size 8 dress of 1958 doesn’t even have a modern-day equivalent — the waist and bust measurements of a Mad Men-era 8 come in smaller than today’s size 00. […]

Enter the era of vanity sizing. Clothing manufacturers realized that they could flatter consumers by revising sizes downward. The measurements that added up to a size 12 in 1958 would get redefined to a size 6 by 2011.

And Lena’s getting laaaaaaaaaarger!!

Critical Eye observes that the Fat Acceptance bowel movement “comes with Offishal Imprimatur:  the clothing sizes are maintained by the American Society of Testing and Materials.”

Fat fucks can take a backhanded comfort in the assuaging of their wide load egos by Offishal government organizations devoted to spreading a Valdez-sized oil slick of lies over everything true and beautiful in the world, but in the end the only imprimatur that matters is the serrated CH Shiv leaving its insignia in the marbled vitals of these filth-peddling grotesqueries.


This is a truthnbeauty post, so hatefact news about Diversity™ is related to exposing the lies of the Fat Acceptors: diversity lowers a firm’s market value.

Most likely share values drop when a firm’s board adds more women because investors are discounting the future rate of return of the firm based on two unflattering facts about the Diversity Danegeld: one, that a company which moves its focus to social justice adventurism loses focus from its profit-making ability, and two, an increase in female board members will result, given time, in a decrease in firm performance. (Hi, Carly!)

PS Commenter JP makes a great analogy between stock portfolio diversity and racial/ethnic diversity:

When you over-diversify your stock portfolio, you don’t ever outperform the market. You just sort of putter along, rising and falling with the all-share index while everyone else gets rich. The same applies to diversity uber alles.


Yes, I know it’s ‘shopped, but the visual alone sans placard (the hooters chick was originally carrying a drink order) would’ve sufficed to get the point across. A happy, smiling hottie, content to be a pleasing decoration for men, horrifies an ugly feminist by her mere cavorting presence. Low mutational load rape!

Read Full Post »

Twitter twats hired Randi Lee Harper as an “Online Abuse Prevention” schoolmarm, and continue to employ her, despite a mass (heh) of gathering evidence that she is fat, drug-addicted, mentally unhinged, and a disingenuous liar.

So why is she still working there? Does she have dirt on Twatter executives? Or is the entire Twatter HR department staffed wall to wall by crazy-eyed feminists and pantywaist sycophants allergic to facts and tasked with Narrative dissemination?

A reader muses,

feminist… fat… feminist… fat… feminist… fat… feminist… fat… feminist… fat… feminist… fat… feminist… ”

I see, someone REALLY doesn’t want to be allowed back on the twitter.

Does anyone seriously think a CH house lord would beg a porky misfit like Randi Lee Harper for re-entrance to the club she is inexplicably charged with monitoring? No, that is not how this will go. She will come to CH, on her ungulate knees, to offer an obsequious apology and reconciliation to her betters. As losers are meant to do.

Long-time guests of Le Chateau will recognize the deeper message of this post. They will know this post is not solely about Randi Lee Harper (or about using her SJW tools against her) — she is but a convenient emblem to showcase a much more pervasive societal sickness — but is about, instead, the tentacled mind and body rot oozing out over the commons from the sewage pipes emptying the uptalking id waste of the SJW corporation of bitter, spiteful, loser freak degenerates whose adult sentiments were prematurely calcified into a juvenile philosophy of solipsism as they peered at the world outside through the vents of their high school lockers.

PS Hi Randi! PETA wants to know how your blue-dyed dog is doing.

Read Full Post »

…to a gay man scouting for a green card. For evidence, see this try-hard article and accompanying photos.

Dat gay face. He’s the one with the thousand cock stare.

She is totally his citizenship beard. They will make traditional love precisely once. He will need mass quantities of drugs to commence the act and fake his completion.

Her marriage is a hog and phony show to burnish her feminist cred. “See, a fat woman proud of her fatness can get married too! Take that, straight white masculine men with healthy libidos!”

Lindy West is a blowhard feminist. Not a colorful exaggeration. You can practically see her blowhole.

The Immensity lies,

I’ve dated [ed: black] men who relished me in private but refused to be seen with me on the street, or who told me, explicitly, that we had no serious future because they were afraid their friends would laugh at them.

shitthatneverhappened.txt. No man talks like this. If a loser dumpster dives to get his rocks off, he won’t deliver a confessional coda like this one to his fat fling. He’ll just stop texting and ghost. Shit that does happen to Lindy West: She falls for [ed: white] guys, they aren’t the least bit interested, she spins it as their fear of getting ribbed by their friends rather than their complete lack of physical attraction.

Fat pigs lie all the time to assuage their hammy egos. Feminist fat pigs with an internet bullhorn lie twice as much and ten times as desperately. The try-hard, butthurt, phonyfuck haggadocio drips like bacon grease from the mouth corners of the Lindy Wests of the world.

I’m surprised by the numbers of gullible “red pillers” who take fat women at their word when they oink about their nonexistent love lives with “studs” and “winners”. Look at Lindy’s “””wedding””” pics. The freak show rolled into town and the only one not getting the joke is Lindy.

Prediction: Lindy West will not get happier nor more emotionally secure as she settles into her marriage. That is because she will know what no one but her and gaycabanaboy know: A circus spectacle won’t save her from the lonely, loveless nights that are the fate of fat women married to effeminate men dreaming of somewhere and something else entirely.

PS The easy shiv: “Lindy + A Ham”. True that.

PPS Why do I come down hard on Lindy West and her ilk? Because they’re degenerate liars. And degenerate liars are bad business for believers in truthnbeauty.

Read Full Post »

Compare and contrast.

America, then:


America, now:

America the Beautiful to America the Beastly in eighty years. You think this is frivolous, if amusing, griping. Ugliness in body and of spirit, and the crooked celebration thereof, is a defining feature of exhausted, declining cultures. Pampered softness has made Americans, and especially American women, ugly, crass, and teetering on the brink of mass insanity.

What do I mean by ugliness of spirit?

This, for example…

The nation has taken a wholesale turn away from beauty and toward ugliness. We embrace the ugly, castigate those “beauty bitter clingers”, and rejoice at the death of judgement. All the while our spirits and our bodies turn into formless pulp, manifesting our new beliefs, and we become ripe for defeat by more vital outsiders.

A little bit of hardship is good for a civilization’s, as well as a person’s, soul. Hardship will likely return to us, but when that time comes the difference then will be that we won’t be prepared to meet it head on.

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 2,394 other followers

%d bloggers like this: