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Archive for the ‘Hungry Hungry Hippos’ Category

Via fagsnark central:

More and more women are now dying in childbirth, but only in America […]

Part of the uptick in cardiovascular-related deaths is because more pregnant women in the US have chronic health conditions such as hypertension, diabetes, and obesity, all of which put them at a much greater risk for pregnancy complications.

“It’s a larger problem than just dealing with women during pregnancy, it’s the health of our society,” said Callaghan. “Imagine a [pregnant] woman comes in with BMI of 40, and she’s 24 years old — that didn’t happen in the past year, it happened in the past 24 years.”

Obesity is not just bad for women’s health, it kills women’s romantic dreams…and it can kill them during childbirth. Blubber is an across-the-board decrease in quality of life (for men as well, but the impact of excess adipose is bigger (heh) for women).

But hey let’s have more fat acceptance headcases tell us all how much real men prefer women with one convex curve.

curves

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The Chateau is long on record espousing the aesthetic benefits of fat shaming on a mass (heh), coordinated scale to reduce the disfiguring incidence of blubberbutts in the United States of Asstronomical Fattitude. There is no nobler cause than reasserting the primacy of Truth and Beauty and beating back the satanic incursions of Lies and Ugliness.

Many slimlords have taken up the banner of fat shaming and naturally the fatties were upset. (Didn’t matter, because upset fatties can’t do much but weep tears of lard into tubs of ice cream). Now, gay supraheroine Milo has put together a shiv-worthy article speckled with numerous links to studies finding that indeed fat shaming does work, if by work we mean it motivates fatties to lose weight and non-fatties to refrain from ever getting fat in the first place.

Social pressure, peer group management, punitive and targeted taxation, ostracism, teasing, taunting, rudeness, ridicule, and my personal favorite, cruelty, are effective means of containing the spread (double-wide heh) of the obesity epidemic and helping at least some fatties lose weight and look like normal human beings again, complete with the happiness that accompanies the transition. It worked for smoking, it can work for fatties. The key is to get them while they’re young, before bad habits and DGAFism have metastasized. Judging by the number of porky schoolkids I see around, the need for a national fat shaming project — a Svelte Society, if you will — was never greater.

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sausagefingers

“I told him ‘jump on the grenade’, not ‘strap yourself to the ICBM and ride it to hell’.”

Is this a case of a rare, genuine fatty fucker feeding the belly and the ego of a blustering megabeast?

I considered this photo and the man who is part of it for submission to the next Beta of the Month contest, but three red flags have me convinced this is staged (and thus not up to the Chateau’s impeccable BOTM contest entry standards).

Before I give those clues away, try to find them yourselves.

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Ok, here’s where the porkster failed in her mission to further a credible fat acceptance agit-prop.

  1. The feminist fatty hashtags are too “on the snout”. No woman, not even a bitter disguntled obesity, will oink repeatedly on Instagram about “beauty standards” and “body love” when she’s just received an engagement ring, fulfilling a fantasy that most women hold dear since girlhood. Powerful feelings of love, yes real love not “body love”, will supersede a normal fatty’s political agitation programming, and the hashtags will say instead #justengaged #lovehim #imgettingmarried etc.
  2. Whenever a woman starts a thought with “So”, particularly a “so” with three “o”s, it’s a good bet whatever follows is complete bullshit. “Sooo” is the shorter version of “No, but honest-to-God…”. Liars say this a lot.
  3. Finally, the dead giveaway… any fatty fucker worth his blubber-induced boner will know that his porky princess’s sausage links require the dashingly-dilated, goatse’d ring to make it past the second pig knuckle, where the fat really starts to accumulate. Look closely and you’ll see her ring propped indolently above her second finger goiter.

Conclusion: This is a gay BFF, or a brother, or a deeply respectful low-T male feminist friend, conspiring with a fatty fat to help her collect lard-warming feelz in the fake social media universe. Is it still beta? Yes. But it’s not the kind of guileless, inept betatude that normally qualifies a man for BOTM candidacy.

If I’m proven wrong, that won’t change much. A fatty who believes her stroke of luck wresting a marital promise from the equivalent of a human unicorn — the fatty fucker who isn’t also a rotund beast with no better options — means that the world is filled with men who would shower love on her if only “thin privilege” or the pastryarchy would stop “telling them” not to, is still a fatty laboring under delusions of glandular.

Every fatty — and I mean every one of them — would experience improved romantic prospects if they pushed away from the trough.

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A recent social science study found that female obesity elicits disgust in people.

This study examined the relevance of disgust to evaluations of an obese target person, and the connection between disgust and prejudice toward that person. Participants (n = 598) viewed an image of an obese or non-obese woman, and then evaluated that woman on a number of dimensions (emotions, attitudes, stereotypes, desire for social distance). Compared with the non-obese target, the obese target elicited more disgust, more negative attitudes and stereotypes, and a greater desire for social distance.

😆 “Get away from me you lazy-eyed fatty!”

Furthermore, disgust mediated the effect of the target’s body size on all of the outcome variables (attitudes, stereotypes, social distance). Disgust plays an important role in prejudice and discrimination toward individuals with obesity, and might in part explain the pervasiveness of weight bias.

It’s a good idea to not look like a monster who elicits disgust in others.

Randall Parker speculates,

Maybe people are becoming less patriotic because of the long term rise in obesity. Think about it.

I thought about it, and there’s something to it. Obesity – particularly female obesity – aggravates trends toward social atomization and community breakdown because it compels people to get the hell away from the corpulent company of modern day circus freaks. In some regions of the US, obesity is the NORM! That’s a lot of pent-up disgust.

If patriotism is in large part an organic expression of community, racial, and ethnic pride channeled through loyalty for the nation, then obesity, by severing localized social bonds all over America, will undermine national patriotism, as the repulsive forces incited by fatties are scaled up.

When humans turn themselves into monsters, it’s inevitable that their society becomes monstrous.

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A group calling itself “Overweight Haters Ltd” is handing out leaflets on the British subway.

“perverted chubby-lover”

😆😆😆

I swear this fat shaming shiv could have been pulled straight from the CH sheath, word for word.

Are the Chateau’s very special lessons percolating through the wider culture? This ‘umble blog doesn’t have millions of daily readers, but it doesn’t take much visibility to get an idea, a truthful idea long suppressed and now revealed with gleeful sadism, to make a “memetic sweep” through society’s DNA.

The Awakening is Happening, on all fronts: race, sex, truth, beauty. And on the banner of the shitlords, an emblem flaps victorious in the crisp autumn breeze:

***

Why are the police investigating the provenance of this Realtalk™? Doesn’t Britain have a lingering respect for free speech? Or is that a quaint White Man invention destined for the ash heap of history? One could look at this authoritarian overstepping as the sort of frenzied reaction a ruling elite makes just before:

Swing High Sweet Lariat

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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”😆😆

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.

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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.

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