I can't believe I'm making this post. I feel like one of those assholes that post selfies and actfit step crap with motivational quotes. "Oh, hey guys, I did 50000 steps today. Namaste."
But it's true. I'm fat. And no, I won't be posting a selfie of my disgrace. Even though now I do have huge breasts, man boobs I believe they're called, and the selfie posts with huge breasts do tend to get a few upvotes on occasion, but no, I WON'T DO IT!
I have standards.
But, being fat is not one of my standards.
And this is all the fault of the Reserve Bank. It was the IMF and their WHO lackey's that closed down all the gyms. For months I have been unable to deadlift. I can't function unless I deadlift at least once a week. And all of this so fat old people won't die from the flu.
Now, I'm a fat old person. My chance of dying from a disease just went up 45678%
Heart disease, liver disease, diabetes, fat-related death, the bat flu ... I'm a high risk to it all.
Ventilator? I need a ventilator just to walk up the stairs.
And that's just the physical side of things. What about the psychological trauma? I had no idea the amount of mental anguish a fat person has to endure every day.
You don't understand. I'm not good looking, I have a terrible personality, and I'm not a millionaire. My muscular toned body, my perfectly sculpted abs .. that was all I had. Now no one will have sex with me. No one wants to have sex with an old, ugly, creepy fat guy.
I'm suffering from depression.
This is the government's fault. I need funding. I need medical attention paid for by social security. I need subsidized medications. I may need surgery at some point. I don't know, I've never been fat before, I presume things will start to break after a while.
I take no personal responsibility for my blubber at all.
What was I supposed to do?
They closed all the gyms. I need to lift heavy weights and make caveman-like grunting sounds with my shirt off. I'm a man. I can't jog around the park in lulumelons and AirPods like some ridiculous woman. You want me to ride around the park on a bike ringing a bell shouting "bike coming through!" while dodging women with small children like a cycling sociopath? No, thank you!
They closed everything. I was bored. There was nothing to do. Hang out with friends? Are you insane? I don't have any friends. Freinds are stupid.
So I did what any civilized man in my position would do. I ate entire pizzas and drunk whole bottles of whiskey while reading WhatsApp messages from friends (er, acquaintances) about their online Zoom pilates classes.
It wasn't always pizza and whiskey. Sometimes it was kebabs and beer, and Chinese food, lots of Chinese food. I wanted to support my local Chinese community during these unprecedented times. And boy did I support them. Noodles, wonton soup, satay chicken, spring rolls of all shapes and sizes, san choy bow, honey prawns. If it was Chinese, I ate it with fried ice cream for dessert and multiple bottles of red wine.
Now the whole show is over. The world's going back to normal. There's some new shit they want me to care about now. But, I don't have the energy for it. I'm too fat. I'm hungry. I had leftover beef dumplings for breakfast, but skipped lunch. I'm on a diet.
Now I know what it was all really about. There was never a virus. It was a conspiracy theory. They wanted me fat. They wanted me fat and weak and slow. Now when they come to microchip me, I will be too fat to run away. That was the plan, and it worked.
Now I'm fat. A giant blob of blubber sitting on the couch watching Netflix and waiting for some skinny starving student visa to deliver my sweet and sour pork right to my door on a bicycle for $3.50 an hour.
He didn't bring the dim sims. I ordered dim sims. There are no dim sims in the bag.
I'm too fat to care.
