What’s up lardos, did you miss me? Maybe not as much as your daily taco-bell run, but I know you fat fucks jerk off to my beautiful posts. Anyway, I’m back from living my life and being awesome, because that’s what if people actually do. We don’t spend our times sitting on the coutch watching football and eating pizza and nachos. We actually contribute to society, we make the world a better place. If America was ever attacked by China and we needed to defend our homeland, do you think you fat pieces of shit could even fit in a military uniform, much less manage to not eat your entire weekly rations by third breakfast? I bet not, and after the fit people fight to the death, the only ones left to reproduce (assuming we actually win seeing as over 1/3 of our country is too fat to function) are going to be you fat, pathetic slime. It enrages me just thinking about it. Anyway, I came back to tell you what I did last night, because I know you fatasses don’t actually go in public so you don’t actually experience anything interesting.
So I was at a club for about 20 minutes or so with 2 of my friends and we realized it was pretty much a ham-fest. One
of my friends was dancing with a 8/10 (probably the hottest girl there) and we didn’t want to leave him since we all drove together, so we just went to the bar, took a couple shots, and talked to one another. Then some fucking hambeast and her two friends (one homo and one hambeast) walk up and she asked if they can buy us a drink. Although I have no respect for fatties, I might as well take their money so I accepted the offer. She was clearly a spoiled brat and was being very generous, trying to pound the drinks into us until we lowered our standards enough to fuck her. However, I can control myself, no matter how drunk I am a hambeast is always off limits.
Anyway, my friend came back from dancing with the 8/10 and said “fuck that bitch, let’s go” so we got up to leave. “Hey, wait!” the gluttonous slob cried. I turned around, stumbling, and replied “tha fuck do you want bitshhh?!” This made her angry, she clearly saw that she got played and that she wouldn’t be able to rape me in my incapacitated state tonight, and that enraged her. So she walked up to me, got right in my face, and started going on a rant. Spit was flying from her mouth, I don’t even remember what she said, all it sounded like to me was a chihuaha barking with its mouth full of mashed potatoes. After a few seconds I just turned around and started walking away, her odious appearance was not even worthy of being graced by my presence. After I got out the door I felt a tugging sensation on my back and I turned around and got immediately slapped in the face. The chubbster was standing in front of me with the most smug face that I’ve ever seen, and she just assaulted me. That was all the justification I needed. I immediately cocked my fist back and threw a fist-full of whoopass on her disgustingly chubby face, knocking her out in the process. Her friends stood in shock, probably having shit their pants along with the stupid bitch laying on the floor, and they didn’t dare do anything to help her.
I immediately went back to the car to get some hand sanitizer to wash off my knuckles, there’s no sense in allowing that putrid fat piece of shit to infect my beautiful hands with her repulsive bodily slime. All in all it was a great night. Although I didn’t bang any chicks, I got to beat the shit out of a fatster, so the night was even more successful than I thought. One day when the world wises up and realizes that fatties are a scourge on society, I’ll get paid to beat up these abominations. That will be the day…
They really do. Everybody knows it. It’s no secret. Yet when you try to voice this unspoken understanding, you’ll be pounced on by the fat apologists for being a bigot. Lol WTF? Are those idiots trying to tell me that reality is bigoted?
A lot of these same fat apologists who would force their bullshit on you will also try to deny the obvious reality that fat people fucking stink. This is like trying to claim that 2 + 2 = 5. The only way you could delude yourself into thinking this is true is by having your head so far up your ass that you close yourself off from the real world and live in a fantasy land inside your own head. In other words, you are stupid.
But why do fatties stink? There’s a myriad of reasons. Let’s assume this hypothetical fatty is uptight about her hygiene, always pampering herself up and making sure she’s 100% clean. She doesn’t stink more than somebody who weighs 100 pounds less, right? Wrong. Fatties sweat more than a person who not fat, which is the result of their excessive insulation from their fat as well as their fat rubbing against each other to create more friction.
Now, you might think that wearing deodorant, various creams, and showering multiple times a day solves that issue, and while it helps, it doesn’t do everything. Sorry fatties, but you can’t take any shortcuts on this. Fatties’ excessive sweat washes away deodorant and cream more quickly than a fit person. Hell, a truly fit person doesn’t even need to wear any deodorant or creams and shower multiple times a day to smell just fine, yet a fatty would have to apply their shit and shower 3+ times a day just to smell passable. Fucking passable, as in I’m not on the verge of vomiting by being within 10 feet of you. And even then, you sweat all over your body and fatties are too fat to reach every area of their disgustingly huge bodies to wash and apply cream.
Of course, does a fatty who cares so much about their hygiene really exist? There’s a reason why this scenario is presented in the hypothetical. I’m not convinced that such a fatty exists. You’d think somebody so concerned about their appearance would, well, not be fat! You’d think somebody who’s so fucking obsessed about their appearance and hygiene would actually do something about their disgusting selves. The fact that it’s safe to say none exist only underscores my point about fat people stinking even further. Not only do you have fat people smelling more on their own, but they’re also a lot less inclined to shower regularly or even wear deodorant. These animals are absolutely shameless. Fucking sick.
This story below a friend E-mailed to me touches on this. I gotta warn you though, visualizing it may make you lose your lunch:
This kid I know weighs 450 pounds and is morbidly obese. I’m surprised he hasn’t died from it yet. He’s only 17. A few of my friends and I went over to his to keep him company since his parents were out of town. He wanted someone to play PS3 with him so we were happy to oblige.
Around 20 minutes into a game of Resistance, the kid goes “i’ll be right back, i gotta take a crap.” and walks off. I noticed he grabbed a large bucket, which I found strange. What happened next disgusted me beyond all reason.
From the bathroom, I heard a large roar, like a beast of some sort. I asked one of my friends who knows the fat kid a lot better than I do what was going on. His response still haunts me to this day:
“He takes a bucket to the bathroom with him because the smell always makes him puke. All the crusty shit and ass sweat caught in the folds of his fat have been decaying for months because he can’t clean himself. As soon as he drops his pants, the shit/sweat stench fills the bathroom and he begins throwing up.”
If this story hasn’t convinced you, nothing will. All fat people smell like this. There is no exception. The world would have a much more pleasant scent without fatties stinking up the air.
Today I was at the movies, going to see the new planet of the apes movie. It wasn’t bad and when I was walking out I glanced over at a fat couple and noticed something that made my blood boil.
They were just sitting there, taking up the whole bench, a man and woman (4 or 5 normal sized people could have fit on it), holding a baby and feeding it from a bottle. “What’s wrong with that?” Well I’ll tell you what. When I looked at the bottle there was no milk in it, it was not a white liquid, they were pouring soda down their infant’s throat. That did it for me. An adult, sure, they can make the decision to smoke a cigarette, chop off their limbs, or do some other self-destructive shit to themselves. But a baby? An innocent little baby?
I walked over to them and confronted them. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” “Excuuuse me?” the hambeast replied, as if she was worthy of my presence. “What the FUCK are you feeding that baby?” “Umm, it’s none of your business GUY!” This really pissed me off because I think that torturing children and malnourishing them is everyone’s business because our tax money goes into their medical bills. And I make quite a bit of money, so even more of my tax money goes into it then most people. I could tell these people were dirt poor, their fashion sense was terrible, the man’s polo had two buttons missing and the woman had two different shoes on.
Fat people like this are the scum of the earth and not only hurt themselves, but everyone around them, especially their children. I cannot count the number of times fatties say “It just runs in my family” when it’s obvious that nobody has ever run in that family, since they’re all fat. There is no gene that makes you put on massive amounts of fat like that, and if there was it couldn’t possibly be as prevalent as obesity is now.
The problem is that fatties make their kids eat shitty food, and they pass on their shitty habits to the kids. And the cycle continues. The more fat people walking around, the more people that will see it as acceptable, and more people will allow themselves to get fat. This is why we should stop it at the source. We should sterilize fat people.
Nothing permanent, no, something that can be reversed if they put in the incredibly small amounts of effort necessary to be thin.
It may be a big step, but it can be done, and the results would be fantastic.
What are we waiting for, it’s not like fatties can have sex very well without the risk of dying from a heart attack or being crushed to death anyway…
BH sent me this video a few hours ago and it instantly reminded me of a moving experience that I’m going to share with you. This wil be the first big story on CAFP, so grab your popcorn and soda (Just kidding, fatty) and read.
I work at KFC, so I see hambeasts all the time. Most of them are pretty well-behaved – I mean you don’t fuck with your drug dealer, do you? And that’s what we are to these hordes of greasy stinking fat-asses.
Anyway, it’s time to close. I start rolling the shutters – mall store – get about half way and this monstrosity lumbers up to the counter.
She shouts “Hey! Boy! Hey!” I stop closing the gate to tell her we’re closed and can’t sell anything to her.
She says “No,” in a really flat voice, “no. Not closed.”
I pause for a second, say “Well it’s five minutes past the time we usually close at, so I guess, yes, we are closed. Sorry.”
Then she said no again, and tried to slap the counter. This is the sad bit. She couldn’t reach the counter. Her arm was shorter than her gigantic larddumpster belly.
She was squished up against the counter, I could see her rolls pouring onto the table, greasing it up with her filthy slimy sweat. I’d have to clean that off. She finds she can’t reach the counter, flails her arm ineffectually, then says no again. I tell her our closing time isn’t negotiable and start pulling on the shutters again.
This is where shit got surreal. With what must have been a massive effort (driven by her fear she wasn’t going to be fed, no doubt) she hauled herself onto the counter. She managed to get one hand on the inside edge of the counter, with her feet sticking up in the air. God forbid you were sitting in the food court, this heaving bulk of blubber, this whale of a human being, had the forethought to wear a DRESS. Then again they don’t make pants in her size, I’ll bet.
With her other greasy hand she grasps my arm. Sounding like she’s dying of thirst, she rasps “Give me my FUCKING chicken, boy!”
At this point I am in shock. A walrus has just attacked me. I’m being held hostage by a warthog. Assaulted by a huge fucking cow.
“What… what do you want?” This isn’t even the standard KFC response; I just want to know what I have to give her tomorrow so I won’t be a headline tomorrow: KFC Employee Crushed to Death by Wild Hambeast. Still gripping my arm with her pudgy hand, she wheezes: “I want ten drumsticks.”
Now, I don’t know how many of you know how cooking chicken works; the raw chicken comes in bags. Each bag has 2 head, or two chicken’s worth of pieces. One chicken has nine pieces: two drumsticks, two wings, two thighs, two ribs, and a breast piece.
A little math will tell you we’d need to cook 5 head to satisfy this beast’s desire, which means three bags, so actually 6 head. It takes about four minutes breading 6 head at top speed, and then 16 minutes of frying to cook it. So, roughly 20 minutes. And our cook still had to clean the floors, the polishing pump, the racking off table, change the flour, everything. Not to mention, we’ll waste 44 pieces of chicken. That’s a fucking massive amount of waste for a store that will only sell maybe 260 pieces in a whole day. It’s not as bad as all that; we have blue-bags which are 8 thigh 8 drumstick, but that’s still 24 wasted pieces and cooking well past close.
It’s 15 minutes past close, a gigantic fat woman has launched herself over the counter and is holding my stomach contents hostage, it will take another 20 minutes at least to satisfy her, and I’ve had it.
So I went and told my manager I’d been attacked by a whale. He came out. took one blank look at the situation, and said, quietly, “What the fuck.” She shouted to him – still spread out over the counter, fat pooling around her head – “You have to cook me my chicken. I’ll wait.” She looked like she was ready to wait on top of the counter for it, too. He called mall security and we just stood there, looking at her. She stayed quiet, giving us the patented Hambeast Glare of Death, until two security guys hauled her off. My manager went with them, to file a complaint with the center, to get her banned for life.
He came back with a bottle of Jack Daniels, called his Area Manager, resigned on the spot, and sat down in his office. He and I and the cook drank out of paper soft-drink cups. He left us clocked on for two weeks straight. He left us clocked on for two weeks straight, until the very moment he was no longer required to work out his contract with KFC. His last act as a manager was to sign off on 320-something hours of overtime for me, and similar for the cook. I don’t think he said a single word in those two weeks, just silently plowed through everything that needed doing and gave anyone who tried to talk to him a blank stare.
The paycheck from those 2 weeks is one of my most treasured possessions. It says:
So I was on my way to the grocery store to buy eggs, broccoli, steak – all of the good stuff. As I was walking, I noticed a repugnant, beast-like figure in front of me. Upon further investigation, I realized it was an obese woman. As I got closer and closer it seemed that the sidewalk was narrowing; it soon became clear that she was an impassible obstacle. I walk up right behind her, her fat must have permeated into her ears because I tried to make myself loud and heard. I eventually gave up and just said “Excuse me.” She spun around with immense torque, her fat masses were displaced for several seconds after she completed the turn.
She looked at me with an intense anger, like I ran over her child with a truck, went back, and ate it. “Yeah, I just want to get by you…” Her testicle-retracting stare intensified and I began to see how disgustingly ugly she was, with facial hair, lopsided eyes, and discoloration on her face.
And then something amazing happened. She opened her mouth wide enough for an airplane to drive in unharmed, her double chins multiplying into the thousands. She let out an inhuman noise – it was extremely low and the earth began to vibrate. My ears began to experience a slight, annoying pain. She stopped, and continued her menacing stare.
Suddenly, the ground began to shake, like and earthquake. I followed her line of vision, turned around, and saw about 15 other obese women standing behind me. What the hell, I was being surrounded by angry fat women. They pressed up against one another and formed a fat-wall, enclosing me, there was no escape.
I was late to the grocery store.