Buttock-Oriented Reasons to Cut Out the Sugar
1. I do not want my ass to be visible from space.
2. I do not want my ass to be so big that I have to have a specially made gargantuan shoe-horn to pry myself from the bathtub.
3. I do not want people to attempt to rent my ass. For things like showing home movies. Or for using it under a balance beam to catch the stick-bone gymnasts when they jettison off the wood.
4. I do not wish to eventually find items in my many ass-folds. Remote controls, spatulas, DVD cases, cans of cat food, missing neighborhood accessory dogs (a la schnauzer-in-a-purse) outdated concert tickets, expired coupons, family scrapbooks, AWOL houseslippers.
5. The "bigger the cushion the better the pushin'" is true only up to a point. Then the "cushion" becomes a treacherous marshmallowy swamp of death.
6. I do not wish to struggle to fit a bulbous mass of ass into a standard economy airline seat. Having sat next to the massively, heinously fat air traveler more than once, and having had to endure the unpleasant dampness of what I thought was my arm rest but what turned out to be a sneaky, rubbery flap of fat attached to the lipo-factory next to me, and having felt sickened by the wafting scent of the usual cheap-ass perfume worn by virtually every woman hailing from the Kingdom of Pork, (with brand names like "Night Secrets" or "Hot Pink") I prefer not to be otherworldly fat.
2. I do not want my ass to be so big that I have to have a specially made gargantuan shoe-horn to pry myself from the bathtub.
3. I do not want people to attempt to rent my ass. For things like showing home movies. Or for using it under a balance beam to catch the stick-bone gymnasts when they jettison off the wood.
4. I do not wish to eventually find items in my many ass-folds. Remote controls, spatulas, DVD cases, cans of cat food, missing neighborhood accessory dogs (a la schnauzer-in-a-purse) outdated concert tickets, expired coupons, family scrapbooks, AWOL houseslippers.
5. The "bigger the cushion the better the pushin'" is true only up to a point. Then the "cushion" becomes a treacherous marshmallowy swamp of death.
6. I do not wish to struggle to fit a bulbous mass of ass into a standard economy airline seat. Having sat next to the massively, heinously fat air traveler more than once, and having had to endure the unpleasant dampness of what I thought was my arm rest but what turned out to be a sneaky, rubbery flap of fat attached to the lipo-factory next to me, and having felt sickened by the wafting scent of the usual cheap-ass perfume worn by virtually every woman hailing from the Kingdom of Pork, (with brand names like "Night Secrets" or "Hot Pink") I prefer not to be otherworldly fat.
posted by Candy Rant @ 3:38 PM
5 Comments:
At 9:24 PM,
Ana Martin said…
Very large woman. Wearing perfume. Called Hot Pink.
Dear God, no. No. Nooooooooo.
Now I feel all icky. Icky icky icky.
At 9:33 PM,
Candy Rant said…
Yeah. You have no idea. And when she fell asleep leaning my direction and started to drool, I was hoping the plane would go down.
At 10:56 PM,
Anonymous said…
At least you tell which way the plane was banking by which side of her mouth she drooled out of...
At 12:51 PM,
Anonymous said…
Eeww. Been nearly there. But not quite. On an 8 hour flight, the ignoramous pork princess on my right suggested that we (she + the very attractive, nice smelling, well educated individual on my left + I) all lift our arm rests so we could all three have a more comfortable flight.
Riiiiiight.
Scott p's positive spin on this situation sends me into total hysterics.
At 2:02 PM,
Candy Rant said…
WHY is it, chubby knuckles, that the IPP's (ignoramous pork princesses) always try to come off as though they're considering the feelings and comfort of others? It's so wildly apparent when they eye your little bag of peanuts and that not-quite-empty can of Pepsi on your little tray table, that they are powerless to do anything but troll the trough.
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