The Amazing Space

There is an amazing space in my pants where 200 extra lbs used to reside.

I'm always amazed to see grossly obese people eat in public. When I was 1,200 lbs, I ate alone in my hot tub/ deep fryer (hypothetically). It may seem like an easy target, fat people, but it isn't. I mean, physically, great target because it's hard to miss them, but comically- well, it's been done. I'm not being funny. I am serious. Watching fat people eat cake makes me want to run a flight of stairs and drink only water for the rest of my life.
I saw a girl, who was "Precious"-fat, trying to eat a muffin daintily. She was in a dress and clearly she was trying, but she was huge... like, "why even try?"-huge.
Am I evil for saying that? Sure, but I'm thin.
If I were in public eating a muffin with 200 extra lbs factoring into my decision making process, all bets are off- I would be mooing! I would acknowledge that I were already a spectacle and spare the irony of manners at a restaurant. I would oink all the way to my seat and fart non-stop. Farting is the olfactory equivalent of the optical assault that is: really fat people "enjoying" food. It's like a pedophile enjoying his grandson... he might play nice, because the parents are around, but he's pushing the swing with a throbbing erection tucked into his belt. You can just sense the dysfunction and it's beyond sad- it's hilarious (not the erection- the food thing)! It's so funny because that's why socialized health care is so hard to fathom: diabetes... probably the biggest medical expense in this country, but poor people somehow manage to put down carbs like baked goods were dogs at an animal shelter.

Oh- it was okay before I started with the dogs? I've always liked cats more, but I would eat a cat if it were a lean enough protein.

Which brings me to how I lost all that weight (did you think I would forget to tell you that made up story?). I grew up on a farm in Portland, OR. My mom kept sleeping with the barn animals, which led her to sign me over to the state of Oregon, where I became a ward of the court (then she could have more alone time with horses). Before she turned me loose on a revolving door of foster homes, she would starve me because we didn't have money for food and she needed her smokes. When she would get a check from her Tijuana circus shows, she would stock the kitchen full of processed magic. This happened twice a year and I would always eat until she caught me. She told me I would never be loved and chased me around calling me "Miss Piggy" until I agreed to pee on her face while she ate french toast. I felt conflicted about being told I couldn't be loved and being called swine- because pigs were her favorite lovers. I ended up eating my own feet one day when I was bored and found honey to dip them in. So that just added to calories I wouldn't burn exercising. It took two years, but I became super obese!

Eventually (8 weeks), I lost the weight with experimental drugs and crying. To this day, I can't see a crane without thinking: cement truck and I can't see one of those without thinking: cement. Life is strange. Big is Gross.

Marriage Balls Be Ringing

I see a lot of signs in San Francisco. "Free Wi-Fi" "Cash Only" and a bunch of variegated marriage propaganda.

Come on people, if God wanted a man to marry a man, why would HE make wedding dresses be so pretty?! Further more, if a man were allowed to marry a man- what's to say he won't want to marry a refrigerator or a down comforter?! I mean even I, a straight as starch gal, have found myself questioning my sexuality around a down comforter.
Just the other night, I was all bound and gagged getting stuffed from behind by a man (like God intended) and just as I was about to cum all over his fist and forearm, I looked at the comforter. There was definitely a moment there where I could see us walking down the isle. I shook it off of course, because the thing's all white and no blanket is going to upstage me on MY big day!

I knew this one guy, in grammar school and he was always sucking on penises because his parents said it was okay. When he turned 18 he left his boyfriend of 7 months to elope with a tire iron. No one knows where he even met a tire iron! He had always been drawn to guys who were a bit dangerous, so a tire iron probably felt like the next step. Was he born hard for tools? or was it brought on by the media? He probably ate some bad shellfish and became this evil-faggy-tool-shed-closet-hound. The point is: it's not nice to point or be gay just because you FEEL like it.

My friends are all pretty liberal and I hate that! Do I hate them or their beliefs? I don't know either, but I do know that I hate almost all of their status updates, mostly because they don't "like" mine enough. Also, when we're having conversations they want to talk too, about themselves- how selfish! Even if I'm doing most of the talking, it's about other people so they should just get over it and comment on my status more.

To bring the point home, I don't see what the big deal around marriage is anyway- who cares?! I mean, especially if all you have are tuxedos?! I want to get married, but that's just because I like dressing up, gifts and owning people.

Valentines Day: Funny Because It's True

Oh boy, oh boy! Valentine's Day is upon us again kids, marking the anniversary of when that black doctor had a dream. I don't know about his sleep patterns, but if I were a black doctor (show idea), I would be dreaming about a special boy on Valentines Day. This boy would have a functioning penis, some initiative and enough energy to love me. The last dreamboat I set sail upon was more like a tug boat and it just sputtered out before even leaving the harbor, but somehow managed to cause enough damage to kill every living thing in my heart. That was until yoga the other day when my dream was rekindled by a man's toned, perfect body across from me. He looked at me and smiled, which was weird because he was in downward dog... I guess if I were in downward dog as well and not snapping pictures with my camera phone... it wouldn't be as odd (keep yoga weird, right?). The teacher did prompt us to "yell out all of the joy in our hearts through a silent smile!". Still, I think he was smiling just for me. Just like the Sun that shines just for me.

So anyway, I followed him home and as good as I can tell (after 96 consecutive hours), he doesn't have a girlfriend or a dog... so he might be my soul mate.

Valentine's Day is celebrated differently in other cultures. In the East they celebrate it in the Spring with baskets and colorful eggs. India celebrates nothing because they are so impoverished. I think of India when lamenting boys who couldn't love me and the parents who set those patterns in place. I think what would have happened if I were born in India? I probably would have been made a beggar and later a prostitute. However, as I got older (and more beautiful) a childhood friend would fight the odds to become a Millionaire and buy me away from my abusive drug czar boyfriend and we would all win a bunch of Oscars.

So whatever Valentine's Day means to you remember that India has a dream and so should you, but it should be a better dream, because chances are you have more money.

Celebrity T Shirts: The True Disaster

Kellan Lutz, a freshly minted Calvin Klein model/ "actor" (Twilight), was seen showing his support for Haiti on a tight-fitted shirt this week. Kellan was throwing the ol' pigskin (USA! USA!) with a friend (not pictured) when the papapapapapapaparazzi showed up to exploit Kellan's clothing (made in China).
When asked for a statement his shirt cried "some one get me off this thing and onto a 12 year-old, where I belong!" Apparently Lutz's hunky chest was tearing apart the shirts fibers and terrifying all other clothing in a 5 block radius.

"There hasn't been a case of such apparel cruelty since 2009.5 when Pamela Anderson had her 17th breast Augmentation!" reports Corey Haim (or Feldman).

Corey also pointed out that Jesus invented punctuation and sweet potatoes.

Jesus has inspired Corey to keep his charitable focus on the Oklahoma City Bombing, where we lost so many of "God's true children". He hold vigil nightly (Where Are They Now, anyone?) in anticipation of Christ's return. "He will most likely wear a tuxedo when he rises up, like Garth Brooks at an awards show". However, no clothes were made for Corey's cause due to tragedy shirts not really being trendy before 9-11. When I asked Haim (or Feldman)how he feels about this he explains that he "[doesn't] see what's so special about New York." Feldman (or Haim) instead shows his support with a Oklahoma City Goatee.

Turns out "celebrities" can show their support in a variety of ways. Corey has his OCB goatee; Kellan has a Haiti shirt/ Darfur football and Heidi Montag has her Chicken Pox breasts... "Like five kids died in 9 years because of Chicken Pox [spaces off for a moment]... Where's their T-shirt?! I don't know either, but when I find it- I'm going to stretch it out. Buy my album!"

Kellan's cause has got some tongues wagging or, I guess his own (see pics below). When approached for a comment, Lutz replied "a buh buh buh fah buh duh buh buh." His translator explains "he said 'my tongue looks sexiest out on the left side of my teeth. I hired this Mexican to follow me with a spray bottle so my mouth doesn't dry out." The translator added "I'm Norwegian".

We'll maybe Kellan Lutz isn't hungry for Haiti, but I think we can all agree that silky black haired people all look the same.


Abbey

Darker Humor or Just Sad Abbey

I went to the store tonight to get some fancy foods because my EBT (food stamps) card came in the mail. I shopped thoughtfully for a good 30 minutes bringing $36 worth of groceries to the counter. A line formed behind me. "Look at the delicious cheese she's purchasing!" a middle aged woman explained to her two young children. I smiled "yep, just treating myself to some fine dairy." Two people formed in line behind her, all with eyes on my culinary choices. "Cash or Credit Mam?" the clerk respectfully asked, I was dressed so well... how was he to know. "EBT- actually" I said. "EEEEEEEEEEEEEW!" the two children screamed as their mother sheltered them behind her. To make matters worse, it was "Denied." once, twice, thrice...

The janitors came out jabbing me out of the store with their broom handles. A van drove through a puddle and soaked my humbled body, laying on the ground. Then I was raped by my father and had two children by him, the first one retarded, second one, black. My mom threw pans at my head and before I ever had a boyfriend, I contracted HIV from my father.

Maybe my life doesn't seem so bad because I am white, but I feel black sometimes and I want to say ridiculously loud things on the bus like "SUHMTHIN SMELLS FUUUHNNY!" From there a small Mexican man would shed a little tear, he is smelly and knows it, but he works so hard. Instead, I'm just me, recording things on the bus and looking crazy in a very discreet, Caucasian way.

Did This Catch Your Ears? Did You Look At It?!

I am unable to do a mic tonight because I am committed to two very medium loads of laundry and a movie about piracy... or there's a warning... I don't know, but I'm already at the edge of my seat! I have a joke that I am so excited to tell I am going to make it into a long story. My joke will come out much differently on stage and will be peppered with adorable facial ticks that I am helpless to express (SOMEBODY LOVE ME!), but I think that it will be satisfactory in blog form.

Sharks be eating people. Did this catch your ears? Did you look at it? However, people go into the ocean dressed as seals. Am I correct in making this observation ladies and gentleman? Whenever I see a group of surfers catching a wave I think "those seals have great balance!" and I'm sure sharks and I think very similarly. I guess sharks and I aren't always on the same wavelink, but that's only because there are no underwater phones or networking systems. I doubt sharks ever ask themselves "did he read that e mail? Is he going to respond?" and they're probably a lot quicker to know there are plenty of fish in the sea. Plus there are plenty of seals! I mean, if you count all these people masquerading as them. In all of our scientific discovery we couldn't invent a neon wet suit? What good are shoe laces and hot pants when people are being eaten?! What shark wants to eat a radioactive mammal? Not a Great White, which are the most racist water predators around and definitely not your run of the mill variety either. I don't go into Over Eaters Anonymous meetings dressed as a pulled pork sandwich. Although I did go wearing a Twizzler skirt once and it's a miracle I can walk! Children are miracles, but not if you're poor, then they're probably more like fliers that get handed to you on the street. Garbage. Good band, no fliers. coincidence?

Time to switch my load, not because I want to, but because I need to put quarters into something and I don't have a car.