2008 is the year of the "Fat" according to the true Chinese zodiac. It has been foretold that the inhabitants of the condemned Obese City will find a new Wobble Overlord and begin to revolt (more than usual). The year will start with many fatties drunkenly telling their 'friends' - probably at a Z0MFGXMA$B4SH that their new year's resolution is to lose weight and find a Real Girl/Boy. They mistakenly think this is possible by ordering a diet coke with their super-size Comfort-Meal (formerly known as a Happy Meal), or getting a McChicken McSandwich as it comes with lettuce. Things start to hit the rocks by their 10th meal and they recognise that the key to weight loss is exercise - until they realise this normally means leaving the house.
They then suddenly get desperate and turn to drastic measures such as anorexia and bulimia. The only problem being that they don't realise that chips from somebody else's plate DOES count and when it comes to making themselves sick after a gorge - they almost succeed in eating their own arm.
So, the time comes for them to throw their new year's resolution by the wayside (normally on January 3rd) and go back to their miserable little lives of sitting 18 hours a day on b3ta, bitching about JMG and talking endlessly about what they had for lunch.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Here Cometh The Wobble-era
Posted by hubare on Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Labels: Fat Birds, Fat Lad Rehab, Fat People, Fat people need love too, leaving the house
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5 comments:
Haven't you heard? The fat folks have already won. They are congratulating themselves on having rid /talk of the fatless. They're probably having a nice mug of lard to celebrate their victory. Their glee is unbounded. It's like they've all managed to buy the very last pie in the shop.
This victory is shortlived... Soon the Fatapult will go into mass-production
I would imagine I'm still the number one topic of conversation.
That, or masturbatory fantasy.
You're still number one FULL STOP.
Apparently your departure was the result of a concerted and heroic assault by the goodly knight Georgie Porgie and his valiant campaign to rid /talk of any worrisome discussion of drugs. He's so swoonsome. I'd put posters of his face on the walls of my bedroom. Except I don't sleep in a football stadium.
I'm finding it difficult to fill your vacated position of putting the shit people to rights!
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