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Archive for the ‘Hungry Hungry Hippos’ Category

Your girlfriend, who is thin, asks if you think she looks fat.  Among the following responses you could give which is most likely to make her smile and kiss you?  Which is most likely to piss her off?  Which is most likely to make her more dependent on you (AKA love you)?

The Sarcastic Answer
“Oh yes, you’re huge.  So fucking round.  I’ve seen beach balls with more sex appeal.”  *rolls eyes*

The Sincere Answer
“No, you are thin and beautiful, as I have always known you.”

The Coy Answer
“Hmm, lemmee see, turn around.  Hm, you know, it’s weird… maybe it’s the lighting in here.”

The Scornful Answer
“Are you on drugs or are you blind?  Give me a break, you know you aren’t fat.”

The Psychotherapy Answer
“If this is a cheap pity ploy to boost your sagging self-esteem or a test of my devotion I suggest a more subtle alternative route that doesn’t involve ridiculous assumptions.”

The Mendacious Insurance Policy Answer
“Yeah, now that you mention it, you did put on a few pounds, especially around the hips.”  *makes frowny face*

The Sly Answer
“Not that I would notice these things, but if you did put on a little weight, it looks good on you.”

The Non-Answer
“Girls!”

The Satirical Answer
“Does my penis look bigger?”

The Smartass Answer
“Define ‘fat’.”

The Goofball Faux-Reassurance Answer
“Don’t worry, baby, I like a little cushion for the pushin’!”

The Evasive Answer
“Hey, I love those shoes on you.  Amazing!  They really accentuate your long legs.”

The Pimp Answer
“Why don’t you work off your fat ass by getting on your knees and sucking my cock, bitch.  Don’t let me see no tears.”

The New Age Answer
“You’re coming from a fear-based place.  Let go of your ego and trust in the universe that my love is enough.”

The Charming Bastard Answer
“I can’t judge these things with clothes interfering.  A proper analysis can only be done by candlelight… with a warm bath… and a bottle of pinot noir nearby… to be sure the results are as… biased… as possible.”

Silence
*walks slowly to her, puts his hands on her cheeks, brushes aside her hair, looks in her eyes, leans in, runs his lips softly up her neck to her ear.  sits back down.*

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I shared space (acreage) on the elevator today with a woman pushing 300 pounds.  One of the VPs, a portly middle-aged man with strong body language, got on with us.  She exchanged a pleasantry with him and he briefly acknowledged her with a head nod.  She began telling him a story about her weekend when the elevator door opened and an attractive, slim Asian woman stepped in.  Right in the middle of the fat woman’s friendly conversation with him he promptly turned his attention to the Asian woman and offered up a big smile, eagerly asking about her week and flirting with her like he was a schoolboy with a puppy crush.

I watched the reaction of the fattie.  She looked chastened, forced to cut her own conversation off, and lowered her head looking at her shoes which were two sizes too small for her porky hooves.  I understood her pain, but I did not sympathize with it.  At her age, she should know how the world works.  If she wants to be treated better, she needs to lose a lot of weight and stop being a self-made sideshow freak.

Losers in life have to suffer in big and small ways every day, every hour, and every minute of their miserable existences.  Most of us don’t notice their suffering because we’re too wrapped up in our own dramas.  But suffer they do, their worthlessness as human beings getting shoved in their faces daily by others who aren’t even aware of their hurtful actions.

Welcome to the jungle.  There’s no opting out of this reality. 

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