what fantasy world are you living in, and are the immigration restrictions tough?

In which some skinny bitch complains about how haaaaard it is to be skinny.

Okay, inflammatory language by yours truly aside, I grant that she has a point. (Although if she really wants to gain weight, she would do better to eat a protein-rich diet and do some strength training to build muscle, instead of cramming her gullet with fat- and sugar-stuffed empty calories.) Women’s bodies are not public property to be picked at and haggled over. You think someone doesn’t meet your ideal of female beauty? Guess what, she doesn’t give a fuck and your opinion is worth absolutely nothing in this matter, so keep your fucking mouth shut, go home and jerk off.

Really, the only sentence I have a problem with is this one:

Few nice, everyday folks would approach an overweight stranger and tell them to go on a diet.

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA??????????????

Does this woman not know any fat people? Because I, and virtually every fat person I’ve ever known, deal with total strangers commenting on our weight. all. the. fucking. time.

There’s the concern-trolling, RL and online, about people who are just concerned about my diabetes or heart disease or bad joints, none of which I have. There are the total strangers who just want to share the totally awesome diet that worked for them/their wife/random female stranger. There’s the assumption and attendant excitement, if I happen to have salad or a Smart Ones for lunch, that I’m trying to lose weight (actually I just like salad and Smart Ones are convenient). There’s the unasked-for cheerleading at the gym, when the only reason I’m there is because exercise is good. And of course there’s the not-even-trying-to-sugarcoat-it outright rude comments about my disgusting fatness.

Look, I’m not trying to win gold in the Oppression Olympics here. The sick fact is that no women can fully fit the feminine beauty ideal. Either we’re too fat; skinny but without curves and big boobs; or, for the >2% who do hit the genetic lotto, get sneered at for probably having plastic surgery and working out 20 hours a day and living off a diet of cocaine and cock-sucking.

Our bodies are our own. Don’t like them? WE DON’T CARE. WE DON’T HAVE TO.

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i have been neglecting my online journals lately

The ironic thing is that I have been doing some paper journaling that I’m really proud of lately. I just don’t have time at work to fool around online anymore; besides which it’s a law firm and they probably keep track of shit like that and I really like my job. I ain’t losing it because I just HAD to rebut the latest dumb thing the conservitard teabaggers have come up with. (Side note: One thing I like about Louisiana is that people still use the word “retarded” as a derogative without any guilt here. Call me ableist, but the word just has a certain juvenile ring to it that I enjoy.) And by the time I get off work, spend an hour at the gym, eat supper, clean the kitchen, make tomorrow’s lunch, do some writing and/or photo editing, watch whatever Netlfix arrived that day, and read a chapter of whatever I’m reading, it’s time for bed.

Life is pretty good. Work, as previously mentioned, is both interesting and rewarding — I actually seem to be good at it. Mom is tearing up the downstairs in some sort of end-of-summer/pre-holiday nesting frenzy, and we continue to have small-scale spats — mostly over my weight, because like most Americans, she equates fat with both moral failing and personal unhappiness. I can’t really hold it against her, she’s just been brainwashed with the same media machine that deems it acceptable to pick at and haggle over women’s bodies as if they were horses at auction as the rest of western civilization. But yet, she also does that Jewish mother thing where she tries to guilt trip you for not eating what she deems a proper amount of food. Me, last night:

Here’s the thing: you get to try to make me feel guilty for being fat, OR you get to try to make me feel guilty for declining to eat an entire pig’s ribcage for supper. You don’t get to do both. [I say “try”, because she will definitely fail at either one.]

At any rate, if I may paraphrase Eleanor Roosevelt, mothers need your permission to get under your skin, and she doesn’t have it; so life is largely peaceful and I figure early next year is a good time to start thinking about either moving out or going back to school (which would be largely the same thing, as I’d never be here). I’m comfortable enough here for now.

I’m going to see some dumb piece of shit horror movie with some co-workers today. It was filmed in Louisiana. SUPPORT YOUR LOCALLY FILMED AWFUL ELI ROTH-PRODUCED MOVIES. Well, I’m trying to be normal; normal people go to the movies with their co-workers, right? This is one of those situations in which I relate to Dexter. Or Invader Zim. (I got the 4th season of the former from Amazon a couple days ago but I haven’t watched any of it yet.) Imagine a normal person and act like HER!

I do have plans to eventually make some friends outside of work, but when it’s cooler. I mean, what would be the point of it now? It’s like a zillion degrees out there, what would we do?? However, it’s almost September; and although there’s still probably another 4 weeks of this weather, when the months that end in “-ember” start, it’s got to be fall EVENTUALLY.

In other news, even though I don’t yet have a place of my own to put it, I bought one of My Milk Toof‘s limited edition giclée prints (the “Summer: Thursday” one). I frequently stash about $50 in my PayPal account, then sort of forget about it, so that when I come across something that makes me go OMG SQUEE, I can splurge on it.

I’ve given up hope of ever scoring a working Land Camera on eBay, so instead I think I’m going to finally get a Holgaroid back for my Holga. I have a bunch of Fuji pack film (color and B&W) that I scored for super cheap on eBay, and a trio of Impossible Project film that I bought because it was limited edition and I was afraid it would sell out before I had a camera to use it in, that’s just gathering dust. But that might as well wait for cooler weather, because pack film is really sensitive to heat and humidity and there’s more than a little of both of those things around here lately.

So what’s going on in YOUR life lately?

why you should not assume all fat women at the gym are trying to lose weight

 

Some of us are just trying to be healthier, have more energy, sleep better at night, not gain more weight, avoid type II diabetes, or some combination of the above. Some of us recently moved from a state where we didn’t have to own a car — because the weather was temperate and everything was close together — and were able to walk or bicycle everywhere; to a state where the rural setting and constant heat/rain/humidity/man-eating insects make that impossible, and the gym is our substitute for not walking/cycling in the course of our everyday lives.

Believe it or not, some people have made their peace with how they look. This is nearly impossible for anyone in the society we inhabit, and it’s doubly so for fat women. When you pat us on the backs while we’re on the treadmill and patronizingly encourage us in our (non-existent) weight loss goals, you’re not only affirming the narrative that we have no right to exist in society the way we look now; you also undermine the years of soul-searching effort it took us to gain inner peace and self-esteem.

Just like you should never assume a fat woman is pregnant until you actually see a baby emerging from between her legs, you should also not assume we are all miserable and desperate to be thin unless we unequivocally say so.

In other gym-related news, I have coined the word “Guideauxs” (Cajun Guidos) and decided that when I am Grand Empress of The Entire Known Universe, cheap clashing man-perfume will be outlawed at all gyms. And there will some kind of non-Guideaux Adult Swim at all Acadiana gyms. (Gyms in New Jersey, New York, and Miami will be allowed to set their own policies vis-a-vis actual Guidos.)

is michael karolchyk constantly shouting “no chubbies!” because the steroids have made him impotent?

Take me to MeMe Roth, we will have angry, malnourished sex and breed an army of fat haters!

Take me to MeMe Roth, we will have angry, malnourished sex and breed an army of fat haters!

Oh. my. god. Remember Michael Karolchyk, the violent, hateful douchebag who ran a gym featuring cage dancers, being pelted with cupcakes as a motivational technique, and commercials in which Karolchyk assaults fat women?

The good news is that his gym was raided by the IRS and shut down for non-payment of nearly $200,000 in taxes. And he could be in for some more legal trouble: after the shutdown, client files containing personal and private financial information were found in the dumpster behind the gym. He also apparently made such helpful notations on them as “lazy piece of shit”. You stay classy, Michael.

The bad news is that he’s found a second career of going on Faux News and proclaiming Regina Benjamin too fat to be Surgeon General. Apparently intelligence, experience, and obvious qualifications are not enough to be Surgeon General. You must also be svelte! Or at least if you’re black and/or female. He can tell not only exactly how much she weighs just by viewing video of her, but that she’s lazy (in spite of the fact that she rebuilt her clinic twice after it was destroyed by hurricanes) and makes “poor food choices”. He’s like a weight guesser at the County Fair! Only even less charming or reliable.

Part of me wants to rail against network news for putting on these so-called “experts” that have about as much credibility as Dr. Nick Riviera; but most of me just throws up my hands and says “Faux News. Whaddya gonna do?” (Answer: Write sarcastic blog postings about it.) Karolchyk is indulging in some staggeringly hypocritical stupidity when he says a fat woman can’t possibly be an effective Surgeon General, when his only claim to being some kind of health expert is that he hates fat people based on his own weird, deeply personal feelings.

Hat tip to Jezebel.

shorter assholes everywhere re: regina benjamin as surgeon general

Regina Benjamin

Will place Twinkies at the base of the food pyramid, obviously.

No fat chicks.

I don’t know if the fact that I’ve been expecting this ever since I saw a photo of Dr. Benjamin makes me more or less agry. Frances Kissling writes with reason and dignity in Salon; yet all you have to do to see ugly, ignorant fat-hating rear its head is read the damn comments.

p.s. Read the Jezebel article on the subject for links as to why BMI is useless as any kind of measurement of health, most especially when it comes to black women. Megan rightly points out how weight is absolutely never a factor in the appointment of men to cabinet positions. People would laugh in your face if you even brought it up. Yet it’s perfectly acceptable to use it as some kind of dealbreaker for women, even when they’re being considered for positions that have nothing at all to do with health.

hate her or love her, beth ditto is too big to ignore*

*This is a horrifically cornball title. I apologize for nothing!

beth-ditto-love-coverWhat is it about Beth Ditto that makes journalists lose their objectivity faster than virginity on Prom Night? I’m not sure what annoys me more:

The haters, like British GQ‘s Alex Bilmes. He sneered and air-quoted his way through an article that called Ditto a “fat lesbian” (“lesbian” obviously being nearly as big a crime as “fat”) and a “porker” who is “pathologically exhibitionist”; said her band Gossip is “deeply average”; and berated the fashion industry as “stupid” for lionizing her and said they they’re only using her as an outsized human shield so other fat people couldn’t accuse them of sizism. Jeez Alex, who pissed on your crumpets?; or

The gushers, like The Sunday Times’ Giles Hattersley, who waxes rapsodic about Ditto’s body, comparing her arms to “slabs of freshly baked ciabatta” and wanting to render the “play of light across her love handles” in oils. Also, her best friend is a unicorn and she farts glitter!

beth ditto 80s fashionBeth Ditto’s profile is particularly large (HA HA SEE WHAT I DID THERE) in Britian right now, because she’s just designed a line for Evans. Frankly, I think it all resembles the clothes I grew out of right around the time Miami Vice was hitting its peak. But I am an old; it might not be a drawback to people too young to remember the first time black stretch pants paired with oversized sequined purple tops were hawt.

Fat fashion seems to be the topic du jour right now (I guess we’re over the sexting panic?), with various retail stores either starting, ending, or defending a continued lack of plus-sized fashions. As a fat woman who enjoys nice clothes, I’m glad to see the topic getting attention. But it aggravates me how articles on it always, always have to have some kind of OBESITY CRISIS OOGA BOOGA caveat shoehorned in among any size-positive tone that the writers and editors manage to choke out.

This recent article in the New York Times (which starts out with a photo of a fat and fashionable woman in a supermarker aisle — Because fat women are so obsessed with food that we just randomly hang out in grocery stores! It’s our version of nightclubs, bookstores, and coffee shops!) contains a particularly egregious example of fucktarded backpedaling:

But others point to serious health consequences of being overweight. Andrea Marks, a specialist in adolescent medicine in Manhattan, suspects that “the vast majority of overweight girls are not so happy.” Apparent self-acceptance, she added, may be a cover for defiance or resignation.

I don’t doubt that a lot of overweight girls are unhappy. However, I don’t chalk this up to being fat automatically making you a shitty person, as Dr. Marks does. I would venture to guess that their unhappiness stems from the fact that we live in a society that so strongly equates your human worth with fitting into a preconceived ideal of beauty — which includes being thin — that fat girls are made to feel like hideous freaks whose mere existance might undo civilization. We’re so invested in this idea, in fact, that we don’t even accept that some fat girls could possibly find happiness and self-worth in spite of it; instead we pat them on the head and say “That’s so nice that you think you’re happy! But you’re really miserable, fatso.”

ETA: Please read and comprehend this post before you comment. Any comments berating me for abusing Ditto — when the only thing about her that I criticized was her design sense — will be reported as spam and ignored.

these are both the dumbest AND the most offensive ads i’ve ever seen. kudos, jerkface yogurt company!

Fit Light Yogurt is currently running one of the more head-splodingly offensive ads I’ve ever seen. They’ve re-worked famous movie scenes and inserted fat women in them, the better to shame all us fatties over how we don’t fit into society, or something. Here’s their take on American Beauty:

fit light yogurt american beauty

ADVERTISING FAIL. This woman is hot, you dumbfucks!

What makes it even worse is the accompanying tagline: Forget about it. Men’s preference will never change. Fit Light Yogurt. I don’t know what’s more stupid and wrong here, that a) this woman’s build would have been widely considered attractive and voluptuous by western conventions — and fairly normal, for financially well-off women — not very long ago, so clearly men’s tastes do change; or b) the idea that you should be skinny not for your own self-esteem or health, but so you can snag a man.

I thought that was bad, until I saw their version of The Seven Year Itch:

fit light yogurt some like it hot

It’s not enough to be skinny, you also have to be white and blonde to get a man! Women of color — also brunettes — need not apply, just resign yourself to dying alone except for your 37 cats right now!!

Congrats, Fit Light Yogurt. I am so disgusted with this advertising campaign that I wouldn’t eat your yogurt if I had a yeast infection so bad that it felt like my hooha was full of burning centipedes and I was trapped in a giant fridge stocked with nothing but Fit Light Yogurt. (The active live cultures in yogurt help prevent/cure yeast infections, if that last sentence was lost on you.)

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