Fat shaming

So some jackass decided to start a fat shaming week hashtag on Twitter.   Not to point out instances of fat shaming and microaggressions in my fat shamed entire life, but to make the fat shaming worse. 

Because they want more (their definition of) attractive women to try their douchey pick up artist bullshit on.  Restricting calories is used by torturers to break people's will, so it's not surprising that these creepers would want women to be dieting all the time so their rapey bullshit "techniques" can work.

Do I believe there is some PUA conspiracy of douchebaggery?  Not really.  Honestly, these guys are deeply stupid.  Are they oppressive, sad little jackasses who are incapable of relating to women on a human level?  Yes. Or course.

 It's mostly guys engaging in this shit, but there were some women too.  Patriarchy is a bitch, you guys.  Not only are these guys convinced that women only exist to serve their sexual desires, but there are so many women out there who buy into that too.

And these women self-identify as feminists!!!  OMG, double-facepalm. 

Ok, listen.  If you are engaging in body hatred or body policing of other women (or men), you are DOING IT WRONG.  You are NOT a feminist.  Not to mention, if you refuse to engage with racial issues or trans and LBG issues, you are FUCKING UP.  If your feminism isn't inclusive, you suck.

You're wrong, and you need to get on the google and fix your feminism.  

Back to the point at hand.  People being total cock-asses about fat women. I don't usually engage with trolls, because it's pretty pointless.  But.  I have invented a new way of trolling.  Trolling the trolls, if you will. 

Is anyone surprised that most of these dickbags seem to have anonymous photos? Yeah, me neither.

I have been jumping on and off of this hashtag ever since it popped up.  Because the whole stated point of this thing is to pile on to make fat people feel ashamed.  And my answer to that is no.  

No, I won't be ashamed of myself.  I refuse.

I'm still here.  You can't make me go away.  I don't care if you think I'm disgusting. 

My initial tweet

As I'm jumping into the fray to make the completely radical statement that I'm fat and I don't hate myself, I am getting replies from idiots who are saying a lot of hateful boring shit to me-- go to the gym, fatass. No one would ever want to fuck me.  I should go kill myself.  Blah blah blah. 

You men's rights fat hating mutherfuckers are SO boring.  And common and unoriginal. 

What is the essence of trolling?  Deliberate and repeated misunderstanding.  I've seen so many thoughtful conversations get completely derailed by some douche who tackles the conversation with screams of WHAT ABOUT MY COMPLETELY IRRELEVANT THING I WON'T STOP SAYING THAT MISSES THE POINT COMPLETELY??? 

So I decided I'd amuse myself by deliberately misunderstanding every hateful tweet as an invitation for sex.  I dunno, I haven't read their dumb books, but it seems like they think insulting women makes them want to fuck them, so maybe these guys really wanted to get busy.

(My Twitter pic is of me at 8, rocking my 80s perm like a fucking boss. )

I mean, of course this shit started on a men's rights webpage.  It's misogyny all the way down.  It's pretty rare to see the bogus concern for my health scraped away to see the actual truth of the thing.  

Fat women don't give these guys boners.  And their boners are the ONLY thing that matters.  Women are not people to these guys.   

Clearly.  This guy is talking about murdering me and mutilating my dead body, which I guess is his version of a joke. 

Who cares about a dead chick if she's FAT, AMIRITE? I wouldn't have wanted to fuck her anyway!  LOLOLOLOL. 

And eventually they stop responding to me.  Some of them respond to my polite refusals really angrily.  How dare I imply they wanted to have sex with someone as disgusting as they perceive me to be! 

There is probably a larger lesson in all this.  It's pretty funny that once you take the word "fat" out of the picture, there isn't much these assholes have left to say.  

I'm fat.  So what?  I'm a bitch too. Now you're out of things to call me.  And I don't give two shits if you think I'm hot or not.  

About comments

Blog people, I love your comments.  I read them all, and I appreciate you.  It make take me a bit to reply to you, but I am going to.  I work 10 hour plus days during the week, so sometimes it can take me awhile. 

Kath, I'm mostly talking to you, since you've had a comment on that Miley post for about a week that I haven't had a chance to get to.  But I will!

Miley Cyrus and my cats.

Have nothing to do with each other.  I wanted to take a nap, but I can't.  We've just introduced Hodge kitty to the other cats, and they are all going insane. 

Hiss hiss hiss.  DOOM DOOM DOOOOM!   

He is just wandering around, following me from room to room.  I don't blame him, since the others are pretty upset.  There is much growling. 

The result is-- all cats are freaking out, loudly.  And I can't get that nap.  Sigh.  It sucks too, because I know if I could just sleep for another hour, I could attack the other stuff I need to do with verve.  And vim.  And vigor! 

I was going to write about Miley Cyrus' Wrecking Ball video last week, but we had to go to the vet a whole bunch of times.  And there was other stuff, and then I just gave up on the blog post.  Couldn't make it happen. 

So now my thoughts about her video seem played out, especially with Sinead O'Connor and Amanda Palmer weighing in.  And possibly feuding?   

I'm going to write the post anyway, because it's my blog and I can! 

I am very glad that almost all of the art I made as a teenager and young adult is basically gone and out of my sight.  My mom still has some of it, and I am forced to look at it when I go to her house.  The stuff from when I was a little girl doesn't bother me so much.  I barely knew how to paint.  So the work is bad on a technique level.  Maybe not so bad for an 11 year old, but still.  Stinky. 

The stuff she has from when I was first trying to make my own compositions is the stuff it pains me to look it.  It's pretty fucking awful.  And I thought it was boss at the time.  I had a teacher who let me get away with literally illustrating the lyrics of a song.  Like, if they said "dog", I drew a dog. 

It's so bad!  But.  It's not out there on the internets for everyone to see.  Forever. 

I am 35, and I am SO FUCKING GLAD I grew up before Youtube was a thing.  Before Facebook and before leaving a digital trail of every idiot decision I made ever. 

So, yes.  The Wrecking Ball video is bad.  And it's out there forever, which is unfortunate. 

But the question is, why is it bad?  I think it's bad because it's literally got an actual wrecking ball in the song called Wrecking Ball with lyrics that reference wrecking balls.  

It's too much.  It's weirdly too literal.  Because the stuff where Miley is naked and the thing where she licks the sledgehammer seems like it's supposed to be more figurative, but it just doesn't read as figurative enough to me.  

I had a costume design professor who used to repeat over and over that I needed to add more levels to my work.  She said it wasn't just enough to execute your first thought well. You have to have second and third and further thoughts than that. 

You execute a first thought, add another perspective, cut everything up, mash it around a bit and execute another thought.  Think about that for awhile and then smash it all up again and then see what you have.  Repeat.  Repeat.  Repeat.

It has taken me a long time to realize that being an artist is not just about being able to perfect your technique.  It's also about spending huge amounts of time thinking about the work.  And yeah, as much as I would like to slide by on pure esthetics, sometimes I need to spend time thinking about what it all means.   

I think other people are making fun of/having a problem with the nudity?  I'm not sure.  The first place I heard about it was in wacky gif form.   

Whatever.  If she wants to get naked, she should.  I think the nudity doesn't really work for me in the context of the video.  I wish she had pushed it further.  There is an element of the grotesque in the sledgehammer licking.  I would like to see her dig even further into that in the future, if that is something she's interested in.   

More nudity.  Be weird and super gross with it.  Go far enough that your intentions are clear.  Don't stop at the point where I'm not sure if you're joking or if you know how this looks.   Go further.  No half measures.  

 (It's totally possible that she wanted to go even further, and her label wouldn't go for it.)

I was also concerned (like Sinead O'Connor) about her being taken advantage of, but I also thought she had just turned 18, which is wrong.  She's 20 and she's grown.  If she wants to give the world a big ole middle finger 'fuck you', well.  So did I at 20.  And at 18 and 15 too.  You can't really tell people not to do things you think they might regret later.  Cause they have to have their own life.

I also have many thoughts about Amanda Palmer, but this is getting long, so I'll save them up for another time. 

Scattered List Thinking

Because the whole internet is lists, so why not me? 

This is an amazing picture of me from 1991 for no reason.  You're welcome.

 --There was an awful article in Slate this week by some douchehat who thinks it's funny to trick vegetarians/vegans into eating chicken broth.  I'm not going to link to it, because fuck that guy.  

According to Wikipedia, about 5% of Americans are vegetarian.  The numbers look to be pretty variable, but definitely on the low side.  So if you aren't veggie, here is a thing you probably don't know.

There are different types of bacteria and stuff in our guts that help us digest food.  When you stop eating a type of food, the bacteria that helps you digest that kind of food dies out, because it isn't getting anything to keep it alive.  This is what is hard for people who are lactose intolerant-- their gut bacteria doesn't deal with the dairy well and digesting it makes them feel sick. 

SCIENCE!

(I'm not an actual scientist, as you may have noticed.  So this may not be exactly right.  But it's probably close enough.  And if it's wrong, feel free to chime in with a comment.) 

So if you stop eating meat, your meat-digesting gut bacteria dies out.  Then if you were to say, accidentally eat beef broth in the French onion soup you didn't look at very closely because it says ONION for fuck's sake-- as a completely random example, shut up it's not my fault -- then you will be super sick.  Like, oh god, I think this beef broth has poisoned me type of sick.  Spend all afternoon in the bathroom type of sick.

It's not good, you guys. 

Basically, this Slate jackass has said that he wants to make his vegetarian friends sick because he doesn't respect whatever reasons they have for not eating meat and thinks it's funny/ok to trick them. 

That is disrespectful as hell.  Why not just go to a restaurant if you can't make even a single dish without some portion of a dead animal in it?  Bake a fucking potato.  It's not that hard.  

I wouldn't feed seitan to someone who doesn't eat gluten.  Because seitan is a meat substitute made of wheat gluten, and if someone doesn't want to eat something, it's rude and potentially dangerous to deceive them into eating it.  It does make FAB sandwiches tho.

Have you ever seen someone have a violent allergic reaction that puts them in the hospital?  Food allergies are not a game!  Why not just give peanuts to the peanut allergy kid? Oh yeah, because he'll die. 

Jesus fucking Christ, people.  No one has the right to violate someone else's body autonomy by forcing them to do something with their body that they don't want to.  What is wrong with people?  Bros, I'm looking sideways at you here, since most of this shit seems to come out of the dude-bro community.  Get your dude-bro shit together.

This Sponge Bob bling is also brought to you for no particular reason.  It was taken with a pretty crap phone, hence the blur.  It's worth it tho.  Because Sponge Bob bling.

--Speaking of "jokes", I hate fucking pranks.  I hate teasing.  When I find myself participating in that sort of jokey, it's it funny, blah blah, are we even really joking here oh god I'm not sure if this has taken a turn kind of thing-- I feel fucking bad about it later.  I'm not going to participate in that stuff anymore, and when I catch myself going along with it, I'm going to stop myself.  

I was severely bullied as a kid, and even now, sometimes teasing that I know is friendly will catch me wrong and make me horribly upset.  Not to mention ambiguous teasing where I don't know the person very well.  Then I feel like I can't breathe. 

What do you do when everyone is having a great time joking around and then suddenly it feels like you're caught in a goddamn nightmare and there's no way out?  People say you should speak up and ask the person to stop teasing you, but I haven't had a lot of luck with that.  

Not to even mention fucking pranks.  Have you ever seen the shows on TV where people set up their loved ones? I was watching a show like that with Mikkie and Ryan and the prank was that they made the maid of honor think she had ruined the wedding dress. And they then put that shit on TV.  

I swear to god if someone did that to me... I would have a panic attack.  I probably wouldn't talk to that person for a year.  I'm having a little bit of a palpitation just thinking about it, so I'm going to move on.

OMG CAT NOSE.

--Sometimes I miss the South.  When people ask me what I miss about it, I'll usually say the food, because god DAMN Southerners know how to cook.  I couldn't commit to going vegetarian until I had figured out how to de-meat my down home Southern soul food.  That shit is my comfort.  And it wasn't easy, cause Southerners put meat in everything.  Every damn thing.  I had to learn a completely new way to cook. 

I had good reasons to leave.  I needed more opportunities.  I have a fine arts degree.  Jobs in Savannah were not exactly thick on the ground.  And I think I made the right choice for me.  But man, sometimes it is unspeakably hard.  Everything I ever knew about social situations just doesn't work here.

So much of Southern culture is about coded meanings.  What do people actually mean when they say things.  Everything is approached from an angle.  It's not really possible to tackle most things head on, so you have to sift the meanings out.  It can end up being a little exhausting, as the coded messages can get tangled, and there are frequently miscommunications. 

But at least I have some kind of clue as to what the basic shapes of meaning are.   The Northeast and the South might as well be different countries.  Sometimes it gets to be really grinding to have to try to constantly figure out what's going on.  And that's when I wish, just for a second, that I could go home.

Which is pretty ridiculous, because I hated being there and couldn't wait to leave.  But I didn't know how hard it would be.

(All my Southern friends and family-- I'm not coming back to stay.  You can't entice me with boiled peanuts and cornbread.  It might be nice to visit though.)

Happy spooky Friday!

It's Friday the 13th, which is my favorite.  I'm listening to the Cure right now to celebrate, even though I just bought a Janelle Monae album.  

How did I not know about Janelle Monae before very recently?  Is it because I'm just listening to the Cure and Muse over and over and not paying much attention to anything else? 

I will start The ArchAndroid back up once I get done blogging this morning.   I know she has a newer album out, but I wanted Tightrope.  Have you seen the video for this song?  HAVE YOU???

© 2010 WMG Tightrope [feat. Big Boi] (Video) http://janellemonae.com http://twitter.com/janellemonae http://instagram.com/janellemonae https://www.facebook.com/janellemonae

Ma'am, I find you amazing and talented and insanely attractive in your suit.

Also, I like your lyrics about being a weirdo.  Because I am one too. 

I like to listen to Disintegration  while I'm working, writing especially.  I find it lovely and soothing.  I remember first hearing the Cure from my kick-ass cousin, Elizabeth, who was a goth back when I was a kid.  I remember thinking that she was the coolest person in the world, and I wanted to be just like her.

Elizabeth, this Spooky Friday is dedicated to you!

© 2006 WMG Knights Of Cydonia (Video)

Ok, so let's talk about Muse for a minute.  I've embedded the Knights of Cydonia video because it's fucking amazing and if you haven't seen it, you should.  DO IT NOW. 

This video is a pretty good intro to Muse.  They are completely cuckoo, pouring lunacy into your brain through your earholes, and I LOVE it.  

I feel like Muse sat down as a band and decided-- hey you know how some bands are really delicate and subtle with their lyrics and what they mean?  Let's do the opposite of that.  I love how subtle they aren't. 

I just went to see Muse with Mikkie , and when they played Animal, a song that is clearly about banksters and evil corporations, see the below lyrics--

 "Amortize. Downsize. Lay off.  Kill yourself. Come on and do us all a favor."

They are showing video of a bankster man manically doing work, running around and the appearing to die or go completely berserko nuts on a sidewalk.

I fucking love it. 

© 2012 WMG Music video by Muse performing Unsustainable, from their album The 2nd Law. This video is a short film editing: "Artificial Worlds V.3.0" directed by Richard Fenwick. Info: http://richardfenwick.com/ http://muse.mu

They are also the only band I know with a song about climate change that it half symphony and half dubstep.  Mikkie described them as half dubstep and half Neverending Story. 

When I hear this song, I always think about how if I had my mom listen to dubstep, she would probably punch me in the face, purely as a reflex from how much she would hate it.

Muse - United States Of Eurasia (+ Collateral Damage) (Album Version) this is the fourth song on Muse's album "The Resistance" Copyright - all of the material in this video is that of Muse and I do not claim to have created any of it myself.

Their last album was called The Resistance and this song has the lyrics--

"These wars can't be won. Does anyone know or care how they begun?"

Just listen to this.  It's amazingly weird and kooky and fucking awesome. 

Also, they have fucking LASERS in their concerts.  Yeah!  That shit is badass. 

Oh, and just one more thing.  I'll keep this short since I already screamed about it on Facebook-- 

If you're at a concert, put your fucking phone down. Don't be an asshole and make me wish that you get maimed and your phone breaks, ok?  WATCH THE SHOW.  You'll enjoy it more.  I promise. 

I have to work

I have to work this Friday, because we had a day off on Monday for Labor Day.

BOOO!  HATE.

Don't disrupt my precious routine!  BOOO! 

I don't have time for a whole post, so please enjoy these photos. 

I don't know that I'll be able to post anything more this weekend, because of my LIFE OF GLAMOUR.  

 You know-- laundry, cat litter, hanging out with my friends in Allentown because it's halfway between where they live and Philly.  Did you know Pennsylvania is a HUGE state?  It is.

Did you know that Pennsylvania does NOT have American vampires (as far as I know)?  (Cause Transylvania... All vampires want to live in a -vania.  If they were real.) 

Burn out

Sometimes I imagine myself with a cup that contains all the Things I Can Deal With.  I'm going along, minding my beeswax, carrying the cup around.

In my head, it's very fancy.  Like one of the super gaudy, fake Holy Grails in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.  

So I'm carrying this boss-ass fancy cup around in my head (cause it's a metaphor cup).  I'm working my 10 hour days (or more) so I can have Fridays off.  I'm going here and there.  I'm insanely busy. 

And the cup is filling up.  So slowly that I don't really notice. 

The one day, my fancy cup is full.  And I have HAD IT. 

I turn into my mom.  One second I'm fine.  I'm trying to game out in my head how to go here and there and see all my friends and talk to my relatives and do this show and that show and take care of the cats and then I just picture myself as my mother. 

I can see myself throwing my hands up in the air and screaming-- I HAVE HAD ENOUGH!!

This is not what I actually do.  

I make more and more frantic lists, until I am surrounded by tiny scraps of paper that I can't even decipher any more.  I forget how to decide what order I should do things in.  I drink cherry vodka in my soda and struggle to remember how to breathe like a normal person.  I decide to quit smoking, which doesn't help.

I lay flat on the floor and stare at the ceiling, trying to decide how to do things, in what order, and notice how many gross dust bunnies are on the floor.  I get up because I don't want to look at them, and the cat is licking my hair.

I tell my therapist that I feel like I am fucking up everything.  ALL the things.  When she asks me what I mean by everything, I can't really answer.  Everything.  All the things. 

It's three days since I had a cigarette.  I don't want to punch anyone, like usual when I quit smoking.  I do feel a little like I need to cry, but I decide not to.  I don't have time for that. 

I should remake all the lists into a super list that makes more sense.  I have not taken a shower yet today.

I need to apply to various art galleries.  I need to do laundry and clean up the gross dust bunnies.  I should put on a bra.

I am an introvert who does a very convincing imitation of an extravert.  If I don't get some time away from all the people and the things, I start to lose it.  (Josh doesn't count as time away from people.  He lives here.)

I guess the point I'm rambling towards is-- I need to empty out my fancy cup.  No wait, that sounds weird. 

I am feeling a little (A LOT) burned out right now.  This whole artist thing-- the better it goes, the more time and energy it eats.  It's a marathon, not a sprint.  So if life is making you feel a little weird and floaty and burned out and oh god I WILL NEVER GET THIS ALL DONE-- I feel you.   

I am going to empty the Things I Can Deal With cup by reading magazines and having quiet time.  I'm going to clean up a little and hug my honey and whichever cat will allow itself to be hugged.  I'm going to go to a real movie in an actual theater and sit in the dark with popcorn.  I'm going to make pickles and (vegetarian) meatballs.  I'm going to take a bath and read a book about Superman.

I will acknowledge that I feel burned out and I will take care of myself.  I will eat ice cream and watch a dumb video.  I will pet a kitty belly.  I won't answer the phone all weekend, and I am glad that my radio interview got rescheduled.

I don't have a great way to end this.  So I'm just going to go hang out with Josh for awhile. 

Hey guys

I know it's blog update Friday, but I am feeling pretty sick and gross and have a headache of DOOM.  

So here are some photos my bestie Mikkie took for me of my collage ad work.

If you're local to Philly, I've got a show coming up on 9/6 (First Friday) at Sub 2 on 3rd Street in Old City.  Come check it out.  I'll have more work in this style and prints for sale. 

Ok.  Going to go lay down now. 

Sparkles!

Check out this post I wrote about Sparkles for Furry Fridays on the excellent blog A Geek in Glasses. 

When you are adopting your next pet, think about going with an older animal.  They have a hard time getting adopted, but they are usually someone's pet they couldn't keep.  

Sparkles commands you! 

First Do No Harm

I hate going to the doctor.   

I didn't have insurance for years and years, so I couldn't go.  Just a doctor's visit, with no tests, costs a few hundred dollars without insurance.  (At least, it used to.  God knows how much it is now.)

This was a time where I was eating lots of rice and beans because they're cheap and I couldn't always afford food on a regular basis.   I once ate just rice for a week straight, because I couldn't ignore the enormous hole in my terrifyingly loud muffler any longer.  And the muffler money was supposed to be food money, but sometimes shit happens.

This is not a period of time in which I saw a doctor or a dentist without putting up a huge fight about it.  I got stuck paying off an emergency room visit for over a year.  And they didn't even DO anything for me on that visit.  They stuck me in a room to be "monitored" while my horrifying allergy symptoms went away because I had panic-chugged over 5 Benadryls prior.  That cost me a couple thousand dollars! 

Now that I have RAD BENEFITS with really good insurance, I am using the SHIT out of it.  I went to the allergist AND the dermatologist.  I had tests and whatnot done!  I never miss a teeth cleaning.  

I've had back problems for years and years.  And now my knee is fucked up too.  If you have a history of multiple car accidents and falling down the stairs and off the curb, you might end up with some back and knee issues.  I thought to myself-- Self, can we get some physical therapy for this stupid back issue?  Cause it sucks to go places and constantly have to sit down because your stupid back is giving you stabby pain. 

And it turns out-- physical therapy is covered!  There isn't even a copay.   

FUCKING SCORE! 

So I'm at my first physical therapy appointment.  And the PT girl says to me (all earnestness)-- Have you ever thought of losing weight?  Because if you were to be wearing a backpack with 50 extra pounds in it, that would be really tiring. 

Motherfucker.  Really?  REALLY? 

Let's see.  Well, I am a fat woman in America who grew up fat.  I have eyes and a mirror and everyone in the world is concern trolling me about my weight.  So YES.  It had occurred to me a various points in the past to lose weight.  

I started dieting at 8 years old.   I destroyed my relationship with food and my body, to the point where I'm still never quite sure if I'm hungry or not.  I lived off of pretzels and Diet Coke for months.  I carry around a lacerating sense of guilt and disgust at my own body.  I failed over and over at diet after diet (as almost everyone does).  I have abused my own body and I have been abused by others.   

For fuck's sake.  Have I thought about losing weight.  Why yes, I have.  I sure would have liked all the verbal abuse to stop, especially when I was a little kid before I had developed a hard outer shell against how much other people seemed to hate me for no goddamn reason. 

And this is why I hate fucking doctors and health care folks.  Because if you're fat, this shit happens pretty much every time you go to a doctor.  

Really, what is the point of medical school when you can apparently just look at someone and magically tell what's wrong with them?  Why are we making med students pay all this money to, I don't know, LEARN THINGS??  Cause when I go to the doctor, I'm just told everything that's ever wrong with me is because I'm a big fat fatty.  And since I know that already, what exactly is the point of going?  

If you're thin, you may be thinking to yourself, surely it can't be that bad.  Yes it is.  Please pay attention.  I am not exaggerating for comic effect when I say this happens every time.  I am shocked when a new doctor doesn't have some nasty asshole thing to say to me about being fat.  That's why I've kept my GP even though I moved to another state and it's kind of a pain to get over to her office.  Because she doesn't give me a face full of asshole bigoted bullshit when I have mono. 

Examples--

When I was 8 or 9, my mother told a doctor that I had food allergies.  And he said-- well, they must be working in reverse because she's SO FAT. 

The doctor who thought I got pneumonia from being fat. 

The doctor who accused me of eating fast food for every meal and then called me a liar when I said that I didn't.   Because I was SO FAT.

When my birth control gave me panic attacks, the doctor said that wasn't possible, and it must just be something to do with me being SO FAT.

After a car accident, the doctor told me I should lose weight for my knee, and had I ever thought of weight loss surgery?  

My friend who got diagnosed with a sinus infection caused by being fat. 

Another friend who was denied the back surgery she needed for a year.  Just lose weight!  Meanwhile, she now has permanent nerve damage. 

Further examples. 

I hate to even mention that my knee hurts to a doctor.  I can see in their eyes the fucking glee it gives them to have the opening to mention my weight.   Did you know you were fat?  Did you?  DID YOU?

Because no one who is thin ever has a knee problem.  Or gets sick.  I mean, thin people don't even get colds, right?  And they live forever, I've heard.  Because people sure do like to tell fat people about how they're going to die. 

Guess what, concern-trolly motherfucker?  SO ARE YOU.   

Is there even a medical solution for a thin person with a hurt knee?  Oh there is?  Well.  THAT'S WHAT I WANT.  You give me whatever you would give a thin person.   

And if I ever want to get back into hating myself and performing bulimia behaviors, I'll let you know that I'm ready to diet again.  Until then, fuck you.  I'm choosing to have my insurance pay your ass, so maybe you could be less of a dick. 

Does it not occur to people that maybe the reason fat people have worse health outcomes is because they can't stand the constant goddamn bullying and they refuse to see a doctor?  Oh but we would never do a study to test for that.  We as a society want fatties to be ashamed.  Because we don't like looking at them.

That is bigotry, you guys.  And I am sick of the bigots.