Fat Wars: Episode II- Attack of the Gym Employees

A long time ago (last week) in a galaxy far, far away (Universal City, CA)…

It is a dark time for the Rebellion (I can’t get back to goal weight). Although the Death Star has been destroyed (my gut), Imperial troops (any and all mirrors) have driven the Rebel forces from their hidden base and pursued them across the galaxy (I am exercising anywhere I can but there is nowhere I will not eat).

Evading the dreaded Imperial Starfleet, a group of freedom fighters led by Luke Skywalker (me, duh) has established a new secret base on the remote ice world of Hoth (L.A. Fitness).

The evil lord Darth Vader (cheese, in any form), obsessed with finding young Skywalker (I’m still young, shut up), has dispatched thousands of remote probes into the far reaches of space….

You don’t wanna f— with me when I’m on a diet.

Which brings me to last week when I when I was hiding out in Hoth feeling less like Boba Fett and more like Jabba the Hut. All I wanted to do was use an exercise ball to perform an ab exercise that Taylor Lautner’s trainer said I HAVE to do if I even want to begin to think about having abs. The ball was nowhere to be found on the gym floor (of course) so I had to go down to the juice bar level (anyone who sits at a cafe table at the gym’s juice bar should be investigated for domestic terrorist ties). There it was hiding out behind the front desk. I approached the desk and pointed at the ball. I know that this is rude but I didn’t speak because my iPod was blaring in my ears and I was afraid that I would be really loud and that everyone would think that was I was deaf in addition to being overweight and one disability inspires empathy but two is just depressing.

The combined IQ of the total gym staff at LA Fitness is 2 and we had a real problem because there were only 3 of them there. I tried a Jedi mind trick but the ball didn’t fly into my hands and the Stormtroopers behind the desk didn’t turn and shoot each other. Sensing their confusion and that they didn’t have the Force in them, I had to take my earphones off and ask for the ball. This annoyed me greatly since the only other thing I could have been pointing at was the carpet or a dust bunny and I hardly look like the kind of guy that installs floors or studies microscopic dust particles in a lab.

What happened next turned me into a self-centered whiny bitch the likes of which you haven’t seen since Mark Hamill decided to play Luke Skywalker like a thirteen year old girl.

“Can I please have that ball?”

The droll eastern european one whose foundation was the color of my bathroom walls and whose lipstick was the color of something I usually drop off in the bathroom, answered.

“I need your keys.”

“What?”

“Your keys for the ball.”

“Porque?”

“Huh?”

“It means ‘why’ in Spanish.”

She looked like a female Palpatine but her lack of basic Spanish was going to prohibit her from ever becoming a senator much less an emperor.

“For a deposit.”

“What am I going to do, walk out the front door with it?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“You’re right. I would, considering it’s the width of a tree trunk.”

“Well?”

“Well, if I tried to steal it I would assume one of the three of you facing the door would see that happen.”

“Sir, just give me your keys.”

“I’m not carrying my keys, they’re in a locker.”

“How about your iPod?”

“How about you get a clue? I’m not trading you something that costs $300 for something that costs you $15.”

“They cost more than that.”

“I’m sure you get them at wholesale.”

“Ok, do you have anything else you can give me?”

“How about I take off my sweaty sock and give you that!”

She looked at me the way Yoda looked at Luke when he ran out of patience. I realized I was making a scene. So I walked away.

And then I stopped, turned around and shouted; “THIS IS FUCKING RIDICULOUS!”

I left the gym and hopped in my X-Wing Starfighter (the Honda Del Sol) and headed back to Yavin-4 (West Toluca Lake).

This is where the story ends for now. However, like Star Wars, there will be a sequel. As Yoda would say, “Sure enough, of that I am”

This is exactly the way I react every time I get on a scale.

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Watching the X-Factor in my X-Large shorts.

I know girl. That’s exactly how I felt after I realized I didn’t stop eating for two hours.

Well, I started watching the show in my jeans but by the second half of the first hour I had to get up to make more ravioli so I decided to succumb to the inevitable and put the big shorts with the elastic waistband on. I can’t help it. The Wednesday night shows are two hours long and I can’t go two hours without eating. Also, I can’t stop eating when I’m nervous. And this show makes me nervous. Britney is one wrong move away from getting the Claire Danes in Homeland electro shock therapy treatment and I’m worried she might snap. Thank God for Demi Lovato. There’s a Fat Kid if I ever saw one. I love her. This was the most the most surprising thing about this season (well, aside from the fact that out of all the decisions Britney Spears is not allowed to legally make, doing her own make-up is apparently one she can make. Don’t worry: I’m petitioning her conservator judge to strip her of that right as we speak). Thoughts…

  1. Britney Spears does not live in that house. I know this because she has toddlers and there wasn’t a gate around the infinity pool. Although, if you’re Spears-Federline, there’s a good chance someone already taught you to swim and that somebody is your father because, well, he’s a whale.
  2. Let this be a lesson to all of the dumb ass, dirt poor dancers from the San Fernando Valley circling Demi Lovato at her next video shoot: You can ruin a pop star’s life by breaking her heart, taking her money, sanity and her kids-but God will make you fat.
  3. And he’ll make your solo rap career fail.
  4. Sorry, back on topic.
  5. WHO IN GOD’S NAME LET HER PUT GREEN STREAKS IN HER HAIR??
  6. I’d like to see Demi’s kitchen. I bet she has good snacks.
  7. That rug in Demi’s “loft” has a better personality than Nick Jonas.
  8. I don’t understand why the Jonas Demi slept with before she went to rehab for beating up her back-up dancer isn’t her guest mentor.
  9. I feel like there’s a good chance that after they wrapped for the day, Demi went out for six margaritas and made the Jonas her DD. Good move Lovato, I would’ve done the same thing girl.
  10. The chick with the animal print tattoos on her face also has them on her leg. It would be a shame if someone mistook her for a wild animal and shot her.
  11. I’d like to think Demi has gotten wasted and thrown up on that Jonas at some point.
  12. The lone female rapper, Lyric Da Queen, just looked at the camera and said, “no one’s ever made it from Flint, Michigan.” Yeah, no one except some girl named MADONNA.
  13. Lyric went on to say she’s “been to more funerals than weddings.” I suppose this means she comes from a rough part of town.  She goes on to perform a rap version of “Party in the USA.” Naturally.
  14. Fat kids love that song.

  15. The 3 guys in the boy band will not win this competition but they will wind up doing gay for pay porn.
  16. The girl group Sister C said their dad works “really hard” and their mom is their “stylist.”  Somewhere in the House of Dereon, Tina Knowles is laughing.
  17. I’m at least five pounds heavier than I was two hours ago.
  18. Maybe I should go on the Marc Anthony/ Night of the Living Dead diet.
  19. Thank you Britney.
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My Gym Nemesis

Oh. You didn’t know I was a gym ninja?

It shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone that I have a gym nemesis. In fact I have a few nemeses. However it was a shock to me that the plural of nemesis isn’t nemesi-because that seems way more fun and more gym ninja like and I think I might just use it anyway because if Beyonce can create a word like bootylicious then why the fuck can’t I create a word like nemesi?  Sure, they don’t know it but so what? Michelle Bachmann doesn’t know that her husband is gay but that doesn’t make it any less true. I’m sure at some point I will have to address them all in this forum but for now I’d like to focus my energy on the man boy troll guy who really gets my goat.

 

Dear Gym Nemesis,

  1. Stop prancing through the gym as if you are a show pony whose body we should be in awe of . The first time I saw you I thought that you were a fourteen year old female gymnast.
  2. The second time I saw you I thought you were a meth addicted junkie who hit the lottery when a male model dropped off his workout clothes at the local Goodwill.
  3. Speaking of your clothes: You obviously haven’t met a sleeveless shirt you don’t like. I’d give you a free pass since we’re at the gym… but is this the only place you wear that tank? I think not.
  4. My arms look way better than yours so stop looking at me with scorn and start looking at me with adulation.
  5. I don’t mind when people make an effort to match when they’re at the gym. Here’s where I draw the line: The bill of your trucker hat (don’t even get me started on that) matches your shirt which also matches your shoelaces. I probably wouldn’t even notice this if the color was say, black, but it’s f—ing lime green, so I highly doubt this was accidental.
  6. Get off your phone. This is a gym. Of all the ways you irritate me this one takes the cake, so much so that today I actually wondered if your iPhone ear buds could be used as a noose.
  7. Why don’t you sweat??? I’m wetter than Xtina’s FUPA when someone dangles bacon in her face and yet I’m just as fat as she is.
  8. I burn more calories than you do at the gym just by giving you dirty looks and I still look like a less Jewish Seth Rogen.
  9. The only person that can get away with guyliner in the middle of the day is Adam Lambert, and everyone knows that the only people who should be taking style tips from him are lesbians or Liberace impersonators.
  10. You’re not man enough to be a lesbian and I doubt anyone saw enough potential in you to invest in classical piano lessons.

I replied to this email asking Beyonce for advice on getting the dictionary to recognize “nemesi” and I didn’t get a reply. I doubt Barack would appreciate the fact that you don’t answer your emails Bey’.

 

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10 Ways to Insult Skinny People

There’s a good chance I’m going to abandon this by Wednesday.

Hi there. It’s Monday- which for most people means the start of the work week. Monday is the Fat Kid’s Thursday. (But when every day of your life feels like a Wednesday what difference does it make?) Monday is also the day when you have to listen to your skinny twig bitch co-worker Karen talk about the 5K she ran this weekend or your dumb as a box of rocks co-worker Doug talk about how great Saturday’s Crossfit WOD was. (If you don’t know what a WOD is consider yourself lucky-and if you find yourself in the position of having to have someone explain it to you, let me warn you now-you’ll hate that person even more than you did before they started talking.) Well, I’m not just here to rant, I’m here to help. Here are some of the Fat Kid’s tried and true methods for insulting skinny people. If you have any you’d like to share email me at thefatkidinmedotcom@gmail.com and if I’m not feeling totally insecure because you’re funnier than I am I’ll share them with the group. 

  1. Did you know that there’s aspartame in that Diet Coke? It’s a neurotoxin. Enjoy being skinny while you can, because you’re going to die of a brain tumor later.
  2. Get over yourself.  I mean, even Oprah was skinny once.
  3. Did you know that people who watch their iPad while on the treadmill statistically have less friends than other people?
  4. Yes Doug, your Sunday football party where you serve nothing but MGD 64 and carrots sticks sounds like a real treat but I doubt I would enjoy myself because I have a limited amount of self-control and right now I’m using all of it to keep myself from calling you a pussy.
  5. Oh you’re going vegan? 38% of produce tests positive for pesticides. 0% of the pizza I just demolished does.
  6. I don’t have to be thin because God gave me a personality. And awesome hair.
  7. At least no one is ever going to accuse someone my size of being addicted to meth.
  8. Yes, I drink enough water Karen. I don’t have to get up and pee every five seconds because there’s actually room in my body for my bladder.
  9. At certain angles I might look like Jonah Hill but at least I don’t look like DJ Qualls.
  10. Congratulations for booking a role as a featured extra in that commercial starring Sally Struthers. Were those flies buzzing around your head CGI?

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Xtina, Let’s Talk: Fat Kid to Fat Kid

Girl, this is a long time coming. I can’t put it off any longer. We have to talk. Fat Kid to Fat Kid. First I want to talk about this:

  1. You gave up the right to wear lace 30lbs ago.
  2. Black is meant to be slimming, but when I look at this all I see is the Shamu show at Sea World.
  3. You don’t have eyes in the back of your head so I think I should alert you to the fact that your son ran a purple highlighter through your weave. However, being a toddler, he didn’t do a very good job at being even.
  4. You are beautiful no matter what they say. Just not at this angle.
  5. You’re starting to look less like a Genie in a Bottle and more like an Elephant in a Zoo.
  6. This looks like slutty funeral attire so it begs the question: which porn star died and why is there a red carpet?
  7. I’m not saying you need to tone it down like your former Mouseketeer BFF Lobotomy Spears but maybe take a page from her book and put a 5150 on your access to dessert.
  8. You can only get away with being this size on television because you’re sitting next to Cee-Lo.  
  9. Fire every single one of your gays.
  10. You just released a new song called “Your Body.” Which leads me to this:

mmm…you really wanna talk about your body?

 

  1. This looks like the slutty still image version of Bonnie Tyler’s Holding Out for a Hero music video.
  2. You get paid $10 million a season for The Voice. Certainly you can afford something to play with other than your curtains.
  3. There is so much blond weave covering your boobs that you are presently at risk of being confused with Cousin It.
  4. I just read that Shakira is replacing you on The Voice while you tour. Girl, not for nothing but Shakira said it best when she said “Hips Don’t Lie.”
  5. I would have understood this body choice when you were going through your black guy phase but one of your legs is bigger than the entire size of that PA you picked up on the set of Burlesque.
  6. Speaking of Burlesque, maybe you should give Cher a call. She could also give you a lesson on f—ing the help. Also, she chooses Equal. Maybe you should too.

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Details Magazine or YOU DON’T EVEN SLEEP CORRECTLY LOSER

I used to look forward to my copy of Details magazine arriving every month. Nowadays its arrival fills me with dread. It’s a constant reminder that I’m not at goal weight and even if I was I’d still have another 15lbs to go before I could even be considered a human being by the editors of Details. Thoughts from this month’s edition…

  1. Apparently there’s a smarter way to sleep. I’m not even going to bother reading this article because I already know the answer. It’s spelled m-a-r-i-j-u-a-n-a. Now, could the publisher at Details give me a f—ing job as an editor? Because I would have saved them 3 pages that could have been sold for more Tommy Hilfiger ads which means we probably all would have gotten a bonus which means that I would be able to afford the $600 headphones that you keep telling me I NEED.
  2. We can now have TWO cheat days a week! Math isn’t my thing but I think this means that there’s only five days a week I can possibly fail as opposed to six. Huzzah.
  3. According to Details I need to fatproof my closet by throwing away or donating my fat clothes so that I don’t even have the choice of growing in to them. Fine, I’ll do it, but your skinny ass better get used to seeing me in my underwear every time I go on a pizza bender and can’t get into my Lucky’s.
  4. Oh great, the cassette tape is making a comeback. In related news feel free to throw away your iPhone and reach me via a tin can and a piece of yarn.
  5. Ben Affleck says that when he was giving Blake Lively a tour of Boston and pointed at Matt Damon’s childhood home she said “you really know Jason Bourne?” Blake- it’s time to stop gossiping girl and start (good will) hunting for a brain girl.
  6. Ben Affleck used the words “Jennifer Lopez” twice in his interview which I’m sure is two times more than Jennifer Garner and the studio exec that greenlit Gigli wanted to hear it.
  7. Apparently there’s a lot of people desperate for spiritual awakenings that are travelling to India to practice yoga and meditation and it’s killing them. Maybe I’m a dick but it seems like the problem is resolving itself. In related news I’m offering free one way tickets to India to several of my co-workers.
  8. So hip-hop is having a “gay moment.” One of these gays is a white rapper named Big Dipper who weighs 220lbs and has hair where his shoulders are supposed to be. I’m not going to listen to his music but I am going to tear out his picture and hang it on my wall so that every time I start to feel bad about myself I can look at that mess and thank god that he makes my body store fat in just one area instead of all over.
  9. I’m a terrible person.
  10. I guess we’re all supposed to get an IV vitamin drip these days because swallowing capsules is just not cutting it??? I feel like it’s my civic duty to stand outside of this clinic in Beverly Hills, bitch slap these people as they exit and force them to take an IV drip of my Haterade. Agreed?

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He’s Got David Beckham Dreams With An Elton John Body

Who the f— invited Eva Longoria?

It struck me today when I was working out how much time I spend trying to achieve a body type that is probably out of my reach. (Shut up Crossfitters, yes some things are unattainable.) It most likely had to do with the guy who was working out behind me. He resembled David Beckham, if David Beckham was a real person and worked out at LA Fitness. He kept lifting up his shirt to “wipe off his forehead” but I’ve played that game before and it’s called “showing off your abs.” Look, everyone needs to feel superior. I get it. That’s why I engage my co-workers in conversations. He accomplished his mission: I was immediately jealous of his abs. They were everything I’ve always wanted my abs to be and nothing that they ever will be since I’m not 6’3 (Shut up yoga people, if I want to hang out in a room with malnourished smelly people I can’t communicate with I’ll go stand in line at the Van Nuys DMV). I was despondent. I wanted to bend it like Beckham, but the only thing I’m bending is the truth when you ask me how much I weigh.

And then.

Drugs in the 70’s must have been awesome.

Someone saved my life.

Well, my iPod did. Elton John’s “Crocodile Rock” came on and instantly changed my perspective.  And I started to think, perhaps Elton should be your inspiration, not Beckham. I mean, Elton’s body type is closer to mine so it’s not completely out of the question. Who would you rather be?

Do you think Elton and Kiki Dee would have taken this photo?

Sure Posh and Becks seem like a great couple, but as a good friend of mine recently noted after the Olympics, I’m convinced Victoria Beckham is actually dead. In the rare moments she does breathe air she seems to exhale a strong odor of bitch. I don’t know much about Elton’s partner David but I’m pretty sure there’s only one queen in that house, and it ain’t him. Also, he chose Lady GaGa to be their son’s godmother, so at the very least he has a sense of humor. The last time Posh laughed was when someone       suggested she try the bread.

If you want a part in MI:6, keep smiling.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention their friends. Sure Posh and Becks used to hang with Beyonce and Jay-Z, but they also spent a lot of time with Tom and Katie. Raise your hand if you  want to spend time with Tom and/or Katie. Exactly. Elton seems to keep much better company as he’s always yachting with Neil Patrick Harris and his partner David (I’m sensing a theme here). Raise your hand if you want to hang out with NPH. That’s what I thought.

Elton has written some truly great songs over the years. Beckham has written a book. It’s called, “Beckham.” I haven’t read it (I’ll get to it, shut up, I’ve been reading Clinton’s “My Life” for seven years) so maybe I’m missing something but I doubt it will give me half the joy that “Rocket Man” does.

Sure thing buddy.

As far as hobbies go, it seems that Beckham likes to sit court side at Lakers’ games. Elton likes to spend his free time bitching about Madonna’s lack of talent. I can’t get down with Elton on that topic, but I can’t exactly endorse Becks hanging out at the Staples Center with Zac Efron either. If  Disney produced a made for tv movie musical about high school soccer Zac Efron would play the shorter, tinier, more gnome like character inspired by Becks. (Vanessa Hudgens could play the slutty, vaguely Latina version of Posh. Though she would probably do something Victoria has never done- actually sing.)

And then I told him he could play me in the movie.

I suppose there is little merit in hoping to be either one of them since I can’t play soccer and I can’t play a piano. I also don’t have a yacht, and I can’t get anyone to take black and white photos of me in my underwear. I guess I just have to learn how to be happy with who I am on the inside and not what I look like on the outside.  Although if you told me that to my face I’d probably respond the way Elton recently did on his yacht to the paparazzi:

🙂

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This Week’s Agenda

You took the words right outta my mouth. It must have been while you were kissing me.

  1. Camping Monday. Try to avoid eating Smores. Failure likely. Blame it on nostalgia, not lack of self-control.
  2. Survive another week of heat wave. Force fat neighbor to make eye contact with me in the pool.
  3. Exercise seven days in a row. Throw shade at new gym nemesis.
  4. Repeat this Sunday’s amazing abs by using the Saturday night half an avocado for dinner/4 Stoli Blueberi & sodas for dessert method I employed last week.
  5. Create fake Match.com profile. Torment other singles for self-esteem boost.
  6. Go to weird Armenian overrun mall in Burbank and buy the Perfect Meatloaf Pan Set at weird “As Seen on TV” store. Avoid talking to an Armenian. Make meatloaf.
  7. Try to get someone to hit my car and total it while avoiding bodily injury so as to reap financial benefits/get new car/have good story to tell.
  8. Avoid substituting Grand Marnier for eating a real orange (Siri, repeat this event every week)
  9. Go five minutes without thinking out loud about body image and one day without telling someone I’m fat.
  10. Blame emotional eating on pangs of sadness associated with dog Spike that ran away fifteen years ago.

I love Meat Loaf.

 

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I Hate Your Profile Pic

#light #shadow #art #sex #soap #antibacterial #life

Hey you.

Naked guy.

Yes you.

Alone in a bathroom.

Taking a picture in the mirror.

I have some thoughts.

  1. Welcome to Facebook. There’s a place for this picture. This isn’t it. That place is called Craigslist. Look it up. You can get a great deal on some patio furniture as well. Sure it’s used, but so is your tired ass and you can still sit on that, right?
  2. Have you heard of this thing called other people? They can come over and take that picture for you. It isn’t as creepy and it makes you look like you’re not a fucking weirdo you actually have friends.
  3. Congratulations on your six-pack. I’m sure it has everything to do with your “diet” and nothing at all to do with “genetics.” Also, “fuck you.”
  4. You know that Goodreads is a social network for people who read books, right? Your semi naked photo is a tad out-of-place. Oh, never mind, I just noticed you did read a book. The author is one of The Real Housewives. My bad.
  5. Your lower abs look great, but you could have at least taken the time to remove that roll of toilet paper from the background. I know it’s a bathroom, but your naked torso paired with thoughts of you defecating is eliciting the opposite reaction you had hoped to achieve.
  6. In most circles, at least. There’s probably an audience for that on Craigslist as well.
  7. The Venn diagram of people who take shirtless self pics heavily intersects with segments of the population who take Valtrex.
  8. Oh. I didn’t mean to confuse you. Here you go. Venn diagram. Valtrex. Questions?
  9. Congratulations on your degree. If the rest of your graduating class is as savvy as you are then China should be terrified by American exceptionalism and the wrath it will reign down in the near future.
  10.  If we’re ever on a boat together, don’t stand too close to the railing.

That’s how you take a profile pic, bitch. #Marilyn #planking #KeyWest #sexappeal #classic

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Labor Day

…Is a day when you are meant to not labor. Instead you’re supposed fire up the barbecue, cook something that someone else killed (assuming that you’re not like backwoods or something) and drink enough beer until you’re drunk enough to forget that you have to go back to the job you hate on Tuesday. The Fat Kid did not attend any parties because the only parties he gets invited to are the ones he throws but he doesn’t really care because his parties are the best anyway, so no I’m not trying to make you feel guilty for not inviting me to your barbecue, jk, just kidding, wait you really had a barbecue and didn’t invite me? asshole because he was busy still cleaning up the remnants from his Memorial Day party. Don’t judge the Fat Kid. Have you ever tried removing marshmallow from your stove top after an ill-advised Tecate induced 2am S’Mores session?

He didn’t even have a beer there was so much cleaning to be done. So Un-American of him.

I know what you’re thinking. Fat Kid, national holidays are made for people like you. Labor Day is one of the few days out of the year you can eat burgers and fries and drink as much as you want and still throw on your bathing suit and jump in the pool without judgement. You have to take advantage of those days.

Well, listen up. I may not have attended a party, but…

OF COURSE I HAD A BURGER AND FRIES. I’M NOT A F—ING TERRORIST.

Happy September y’all.

The Fat Kid

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