Intentionally Fat - DON'Tclick or watch at work!!!

I love love love before and after pictures pertaining to weight loss. I have known this for quite some time. But it took some getting used to for me to be comfortable with before and after pictures pertaining to weight gain. And I am still not exactly comfortable with the entire subculture of gaining and stuffing, but the amazing chronicles of weight gain journeys fascinate me to no end. There is something so perverse and intriguing about watching a person gorge themselves for long periods of time for the purpose of gaining weight. It seems incredibly counter-intuitive to me, but then again, I am still slightly confused that someone would choose to be obese. But these people exists, and I for one am thankful for that because they document their weight gain and give me a chance to be the creepy voyeur I always knew I could be.

The people who are into this subculture seem to be mainly guys who are into really fat girls, gay men into chubby gay men, or the random girl who for whatever reason wants to gain weight.

There are the critics of the subculture who feel that being in a feedee/feeder relationship is based on dominance and submission and that the feedee is really just being manipulated. And of course, most people who have heard about feeders/feedees cite the health concerns surrounding intentional weight gain. But that's not what I am writing about here. Because I have absolutely no interest in the feedee/feeder thing. I just like looking at the pictures of people as their weight progresses.

I don't think this post will appeal to everyone, so if you are offended by images of people getting fat on purpose, I wouldn't read much further. Also, some of these pictures and links are most definitely not safe for work!

I love looking at fat bodies where the person seems proud of his/her rolls and overall girth.

There are way better examples of weight gain progression in photos (you can find them on yahoo groups), rather then on film clips, but I am really trying to see if I can figure this whole putting film clips up on the blog thing.

Am I the only one who finds this whole thing fascinating? Has anyone else heard about this? Do you all think I am creepy for writing about this?

So, without further ado, here are some examples (of me trying to be technologically competent) of some weight gain clips:

Fat Belly Dance

Brooke eating

Jock gets FAT

Wow, I gained 5 pounds in 4 days...

Fatties of the USA Unite! (Oh, and watch Veronica Mars!!!)

It's almost that time of year again ... The Biggest Loser! I was really excited when Emily emailed me with a link to the official site, and perhaps to compensate for the fact that I don't have access to TV, I devoured the entire interactive page. The tagline is, "50 states. 50 contestants. Weighing over 14,000 pounds. But that's all about to change." I read the bio on everyone and studied pictures pretty closely, and I have come to one conclusion: I should have been one of the people who picked the cast because they are a little lite on women. Pun intended.

Now I may be wrong, and all of my info is based on a 2 paragraph bio and a picture from the neck up, but I am vaguely sure that I am fatter then all the women on the show! I also disappointed that the producers of TBL don't read Fatty McBlog, because if they did, they would know that there are women in America who weigh (significantly) more than 250 lbs, and we want to see ourselves on television! Plus, it seems so much more compelling to watch people lose weight when they were really heavy before. Sure, it's possible that some of the women were like last year's Susie and their faces are all little and the weight is all contained below the belt, but from the look of the pics I saw, there is maybe one woman over 270. Maybe. And I find that disappointing. Especially since there are 50 contestants, one from each state...I desperately wanted to see a really really fat chick from somewhere in the deep south. Because I love stereotypes.

My early favorites are Poppi from New Jersey, Tim from Oregon, and Brian from California because I have a soft spot for dads with beards, biker/preachers, and fat comediennes. If and when I get access to TV, I may update my favorites.

But there is a clear winner in the Favorite Foods lists. Most contestants put what you might imagine. There were myriads of Chinese, pizza, burgers, fried stuff, ice cream, etc. Mine would have been sushi with spicy mayo, and anything with sugar. But then Mark from Montana came out with this doozy, "Homemade pasta Alfredo with sauce kneaded into the pasta dough and extra sauce on top, top off the pasta Alfredo with a massive chicken breast stuffed with cashews and garlic, baked and swathed in a honey almond glaze". Wow. Talk about specific. I applaud the detail, and my chest hurts just from reading about it.

All in all I am excited about the new season and disappointed that the women seem so "small" and divided into either women who want to lose their baby weight or women who want to lose weight so they can meet a man and have babies. I'm sure if I get to watch it I will be pleasantly surprised and then as the weeks go one I will get increasingly more bitter and resentful.

Emily and I did seriously consider trying out for this season, but in the end we were too chickenshit to be seen on TV with our real weights. Hmmm, maybe that's why there are no women on it who are our size...

So watch The Biggest Loser.

And, as a side note: Watch Veronica Mars!!!! It is my personal mission to get more people to watch this show so it doesn't get cancelled! My suggestion is to go out and rent or buy seasons 1 and 2 on dvd, get caught up, and then watch it when the season returns October 3rd at 9pm on the new CW network. For real, it's a good show, even if the main character is super tiny.

Marry Me Duff Man

Because Lindsey got to confess her love for Jeremy Piven, and did so with my full support, (because I’d marry that man in a micro-second) I’m going to use our little blog to pimp myself to a man who, without knowing too much about him, I would marry if he simply just sent an email to me asking for me to do so. His name is Duff Goldman, and I call dibs on him.

I encountered Duff a while back when I was watching one of those amazing Food Network Challenges about cakes. I’m always one to pull for Colette usually, because she’s great and I’m a big fan. But this challenge was different because of a new contestant. A one Mr. Duff Goldman. His personality and ability to decorate cakes made me swoon and therefore, I shall use this time to pledge my love for him.

My secret crush on Duff extended into me watching many reruns of the same cake challenge. I think he did two or three of them, not quite sure, but I know I’ve seen them all about 3 times over. Yeah, I’m creepy.

Then, when I found out that he was getting his own show, Ace of Cakes, because there must be a lot of ladies out here who can’t get enough of him, I set my Tivo and waited for his shows to start piling up on my television set. And they did, and I fell into a much deeper crush.

These are the reasons I love Duff so much:

· He’s funny and gives high fives, which I’ve been trying to bring back in style for a while now.
· He can not only bake a mother f’ing cake, he can decorate the crap out of it
· He also cooks
· He uses power tools, and that’s super hot
· He’s Jewish
· He’s got a belly
· He’s got a shaved head
· He doesn’t hire anyone he doesn’t know...all of his employees are his friends.

So, let’s sum this up here: a nice Jewish boy, who can use power tools, bake and decorate a cake and that has a belly. Yeah, quite the panty creamer. I have these crazy daydreams where we’re getting married and he designs our wedding cake and it’s decorated in a theme of a time-line of our relationship together.

I’m just wondering if I will ever find a better match for a fat girl like myself. Can a fat girl find a better match than a chef/baker?? Something tells me I’m not going to marry a cake decorator. And that’s sort of sad for me. But, Duff, if you’re out there and you have a weakness for Jewish fat girls with mildly interesting jobs, who can apply their lip gloss like Molly Ringwald in the Breakfast Club, write to me...you won’t be disappointed.

Even Models Do It

I have issues ordering food while I am by myself. It makes me uncomfortable and I feel like everyone is staring at me and judging my order which is ridiculous because I know in reality only 3/4 of the people around me are staring and judging. But that's beside the point.

About a week ago I conjured up the courage to order a sandwich while I was all alone, thus able to eavesdrop on the conversations going on around me. My ears perked up to a vaguely familiar yet completely unplaceable Southern twang. I looked up and right in front of me in line was last season's America's Next Top Model winner Danielle and ANTM reject Mollie Sue. They both looked sightly prettier and taller than average girls and were both dressed pretty low key. I, of course, recognized them immediately because back when I had TV I was obsessed with ANTM because I can't get enough of the photo shoots (I want to be a photographer).

Danielle was (still) talking about how her agency wants her to fill the gap in her two front teeth. She was literally having the same conversation she always had on the show...it was kind of eerie. My god woman, you are incredibly photogenic and the gap suits you beautifully! Embrace the gap or get veneers already!

But the reason I even bothered to write about this is because as I followed Danielle and Molly Sue back from the sandwich line to the cash register line, Mollie Sue starting to complain that she was gaining weight. To demonstrate her weight gain she lifted her arm and started swatting at an invisible fatty under arm deposit that clearly did not exist. She was like, "Look at this! Can you believe it? I mean, I am older now, but why is this happening to me?".

I really wanted to punch her. I know it's normal and that everyone has issues with parts of their bodies but it was just really hard to hear the "I have such fat arms" complaint coming from a wannabe/almost/maybe model who has no visible fat while I stood behind her sweltering in a sweater over my tank top because I have actual fat hanging from my arms which exists in reality. As I have stated before, I have loads of thin friends who pull the whole, "I am sooooo fat" thing all the time but as I recently found out it's much more annoying and irksome to hear it from a model who you don't know and can't call on her bullshit and tell her to shut up.

Blah blah blah...skinny girls feel pain too. Modeling is a tough business...yadda yadda yadda. But still, for all the models out there who I know look to me for guidance, for the love of my sanity, please stop calling yourselves fat ... we don't pay you to talk. We pay you starve yourselves and give the public a photo-shopped image of an ideal of beauty that can never ever be attained. Even by you apparently.

Don't Believe The Hype!

I finally have the evidence I need to prove that bitch from the third grade wrong...I am not a cow!

In an effort to lose weight I tried the hip new "Scared Shittless by Wolves Diet", and I am sorry to report that it did not work. I spent a week huddled with other fatties in fear of being eaten by the villan of Little Red Riding hood fame in the hope that I would be too scared to eat, but to no avail. In fact, the constant huddling and general lack of movement must have lowered my metabolism, which, combined with the fattening Little Debbie snacks in the suitcase I was huddling with, caused me to actually gain 4 pounds over the week long ordeal.

Though I may not have lost any weight, there is a bright side: I may in fact not be a cow. Plus I wasn't attacked by wolves like some of the unlucky bastards stationed on the perimeter of the fat people huddle.

Fatties + Celebs = My Kind Of Everything

When I was younger, around the age of 10, I was chubby. Not yet a full fledged fatty, but chubby nonetheless. Because my mother did not want me to be so chubby she enrolled me in an expensive program called ShapeDown. (Yes, ShapeDown. I still don't know why it wasn't called ShapeUp because it makes a lot more sense to me to want to ShapeUp rather than to ShapeDown, but I don't make the rules).

Now, don't go ape-shit on my mother. She wasn't one of those mother's who would tell me I'm fat and comment on everything I ate. Yes, there was never anything that wasn't fat free in the house, but my mother has had her own battles with weight, so she gets it. Also, she signed me up at my request and blessing. At 10, I knew I was chubby and I noticed the difference between my skinny friends and me. I've always been aware of my weight.

The program was for both the fat children and our parents. The mothers/fathers would go meet with a counselor to discuss topics as what to put in your child's lunch, how to increase physical activity in your child...things like that. Us children would go meet with a counselor and basically talk about how much we hated being heavy.

The best part for me, and sadly a self-esteem booster, was the amount of children that were there with famous parents. I'm not going to name names, because that would be as bad as to giving you guys a list of people who were at an AA meeting, but trust me when I say, there were quite a few. And they were fat and their parents were movie stars and beautiful and all that jazz.

Needless to say, I really liked going. I loved hearing stories of tortured adolescent kids who were pressured far more than I was to keep up a certain image. And, of all things, I could relate to these kids. It's like one shares an automatic bond with a person that struggles with their weight. There was a bond that could not be broken between us, because we all struggled with the same issues, and that was nice. You couldn't keep me from NOT going to these meetings for they combined my love of famous people and talking about fatness...two loves that remain with me today.

Thinking about how, at that age, I was so eager to go to a place that would weigh me in every week and how NOT eager I am now to go to some sort of regular meetings makes me wonder about my own motivation. And, I have concluded that if famous fat people were at my local Weight Watchers meetings, I would go in a heart beat.

I'd even get there early.

The F Word

Yesterday, after getting gas, I went through an alley that shares the same space as a Jack in the Box Drive-thru and their parking lot. While driving through this alley, I was unable to get to the street because a skinny girl in a sports car was blocking the exit trying to get in line for the JITB drive-thru. But, she couldn’t. A fat woman in an old Volvo wouldn’t let her in...and this pissed the girl off to no end. From what I’m guessing, the woman in the Volvo came after the woman in the sports car and didn’t extend the proper “zipper” courtesy, (one car goes from one side, then lets the other side, then the other side...and so on and so on). But, I guess this fat lady really wanted her burger, because she did not consent to the zipper rule, thus making the skinny girl in the sports car roll her window down and start a yelling match. Being the yenta I am, I turned my radio off and rolled down my window. I wanted to hear what was going to happen, and I’m so glad I did.

The moment I rolled my window down I heard the young, skinny girl call the Volvo lady FAT. Yes. She said it. She used the F word. And how did the fat lady respond? I’ll tell you:

“Did you just call me fat? Bitch, I can suck dick better than anyone in the world can.”

Yeah, I don’t get it either. I don’t know what being fat has to do with sucking dick better than most...maybe because we like to eat??? I don’t know. But, there really isn’t a good comeback when people call you fat. You can’t look at the person and deny it. What do you say?

My friend Beth weighs around 200lbs. She holds it really well though and I wouldn’t mind being stuck with her body for the rest of my life if I had to switch with her. And, here is the thing about Beth: she always gets called fat. It’s odd. Strange even. I’m much bigger than her, but no one ever really calls me fat to my face...behind my back, most likely, but never to my face. But Beth is a target. If she driving and cuts someone off by accident or doesn’t let a person into her lane, the fat bullets come whizzing at her. Once we were at a gas station and these group of girls from Beverly Hills High School were getting gas in front of us, Beth asked them to move their car because they were taking up two spots and we couldn’t get her car in to get gas. Their response? “Fuck you, you fat bitch”. This happens more often than not to her. And Beth really never has a witty comeback, because what are the witty comebacks for being called fat? There are none.

I go out of my way to avoid conflict so that no one will call me fat. I once had to lie to my old bosses wife about his whereabouts, (his demand, not mine), and that led her to yell such profanities at me that she sounded like she had Tourettes Syndrome. But, she never called me fat during her rant, and to this day, I’m still in shock over that. But, what would I have said back?

I have this feeling that the next time someone calls me fat, I’m just going to say something like, “Yeah, I am” or “ What about it?”

Is there any sort of good comeback when someone calls you fat?

The World As I See It

The world is divided by two groups...those who love Ranch dressing, and those who prefer a Vinaigrette. Now, I'm not saying you can't like both, but from what I've seen, those are the two groups and no, one is not better than the other.

I'm going to make a generalization here, and I hope you will correct me if I'm wrong, but fat girls love Ranch dressing. They like it on salad, fries, burgers, chips, veggies, etc. And skinny girls like Vinaigrettes. They like it on lettuce, veggies, fish...yeah, that's it.

So, Fat = Ranch and Skinny = Vinaigrette???

I Will Be Their Rat!

To further my ongoing game plan of trying everything and anything in this battle of the bulge, I will next try to become a lab rat. I will grow ears on my chest and toes on my hands in order to get in on this experiment. (Yes, ears on my chest...but no WLS yet for me!)

I read this article and feel it's letter writing time.

Dear Scientists at the Scripps Research Institute,

I'm Emily. I'm fat. I would not like to be so fat. I'm also not that afraid of needles. I'm also just a short drive down to you. Sign me up.

Love,

Emily
Los Angeles, California

Yes, I want to get vaccinated for obesity. If I could, I would like to wake up tomorrow morning and be thin. Yes, I know it doesn't work like that, but let's pretend.

If you could wake up tomorrow morning and be thin, would you? Because I would. Yeah, it would be scary and none of my clothes would fit, but I'm down for a shopping spree!

IT HAPPENED....FINALLLY

So, it finally happened. Every fat girls worst nightmare. Lindsey and I have joked about this for years. Literally, years. I broke a scale.

Okay, so it's not like I stepped on a scale and the thing couldn't handle my robust weight, but still, it was broken by me and me alone. And July 26, 2006 will forever now be known as "The Day I Broke A Scale".

It was a loverly day here in good old Los Angeles. I woke up in a chipper mood ready to face the glorious day of work ahead of me. I had energy, I felt alive. I felt that it was time to use the free membership to the gym that my company so generously provides me with.

Now, this wasn't my first jaunt into working out. For many years I've joined and un-joined many a gym. I've had my fair share of personal trainers. But, those gyms always had such hard obstacles for me to overcome, such as getting into my car and driving there or leaving work and not going straight home to watch Gilmore Girls that I've tivo'd. But, this gym is at work, so it takes no effort for me to get there...and I like no effort.

So, with a gleeful feeling and hop in my step, I went to the gym, I put my tennis shoes (or sneakers) on, I even bought myself a water. And then, out of the corner of my eye I caught it: The Scale.

This scale wasn't one of the digital scales like I have at home. It was a real, bonafide, doctor's type of scale...you know, the kind that you have to move the weight over to find your well, weight. So, I did just that, sort of pre-setting it because I know what range I'm in. And then it happened, I stepped on the scale.

Now, I'm not so much a clumsy girl. Granted, I once broke my wrist walking UP a flight of stairs, but clumsy, not so much. But, when I placed my foot on the scale I didn't really realize that my entire foot was not on the scale, about 1/4 of my foot was, length wise, and this caused the base of the scale to sort of, to put it mildly, pop off and cause a weird noise to occur. The scale was broken.

Let's get this straight: My weight was not the cause of the breakage of the scale. Foot placement...or so I tell myself...is to blame.

Two days later I had a gym orientation with a trainer who, while giving me a tour of all the gym amenities, mentioned to me that the scale was, in fact, broken...but she wasn't quite sure how it happened.