
So, I’m currently holding the wee bit of left bollock that hasn’t retreated up my abdomen with the rest of the kit. A feat courtesy of hearing that my shift starts at 4:15 AM. As such I can’t bring you the regularly scheduled joy of disjointed rambles that would make a a schizophrenic shaman on a peyote bender seem like a card carrying Presbyterian freemason. (Yes, I stole that last bit from Billy Connoly.)
Therefore I share with you my gleeful joy in confirming that FATTIES ARE MOST AFFECTED. If you’re a jolly person of size. No beef with you. If you have a glandular problem. I’ve no donut with you. If you just don’t give a fuck. I’ve no quarter pounder with you. Yes, this is the shittiest joke of all time. Welcome to history cunts.
No, the thing I have a problem with is moralizing fatasses wagging wingers (lol that was a typo but imagonnakeepit) at folk exercising because of a HEALTH CRISIS.
Darling….you are the health crisis:
https://www.unz.com/jthompson/critical-care-of-fatness/
I am of course being a self referential prick (as usual):
and NOW they care about health or Should Walruses Vote
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If Helen’s face launched a thousand ships couldn’t her mouth have stopped it?
Do women go for poets with an English garden or are they jumping labia first into the beds of thugs no matter if it’s Patton or El Chapo. So long as they’re sufficiently ‘decisive.’
Most men want adventure not war. It just so happens that war is one of the ultimate adventures. And it comes with the most enthusiastic cheerleaders.
Let’s you n him fight!
Note:
Fred has provided me with countless hours of joy and insight so I’ll forgive the shallowness of this polemic.
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