According to tumblr, people who are fat are supposed to be happy. “Fat and Happy” – isn’t that how the expression goes?
Well I am Fat and Bitter. Bitter about being fat. And bitter about the caliper test for body fat percentage.
This bitter test has, for two years running, declared me bitterly and morbidly obese. I am not Fat and Happy. I am Obese and Bitter.
This is an actual photo of me. A current photo, not like those eHarmony matches who use old photos from when they were 453982.1 times more attractive.
Apparently bitter beauty standards really do require the Barbie figure of 39-18-33. I am morbidly and bitterly obese at 34-26-36. Just look at me in all my grotesque chunkiness compared to Barbie’s bitter beauty:
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to hit the weight room in order to move from being Bitterly Obese from all of the chocolate that I eat to being Obesely Bitter from all of the weights I have to lift. Like the weight of the world, which I put on my shoulders everyday. Or the sheer bulk of my own morbid obesity. You’d think just walking one step would be enough weight lifting for one day. One small step for man, one giant leap for the morbidly obese Aurora!