The Fat Lady Chronicles

He Ain't Heavy, He's My Bro

McDONOUGH, Ga. —  A 65-year-old man who weighs over 600 pounds has successfully appealed a decision by local transit authorities in Georgia, who told him he was too heavy to use the county's bus system, according to a report from MyFOX Atlanta.

Wheelchair-bound David Washington told FOX affiliate WAGA he relies on the buses to get to and from doctor's appointments, and that he was shocked when he received a letter from the transit authority telling him he was too overweight to ride.     

Transit authorities now say that after inspecting the buses, they are confident the straps and lifts found on county buses can handle passengers weighing up to 800 pounds, WAGA reported.

Hey Tonnages!!

Mama bringing you the news about one of our very own:  David Washington of McDonough, Georgia.  Let's give it up for David, you guys!  He appealed a decision by the "Man", AKA the local transit authorities. You go, Brother!!

Mama's big concern is the headline of the story:  GEORGIA MAN BACK ON THE BUS AFTER BAN FOR BEING TOO HEAVY.  Mama is contacting the newspaper  due to its inaccuracy.  David is not  "back on the  bus", he is the "back OF the bus".
 
Here is a citizen of our country, being treated like a common bus passenger.  Mama contacted the Rev. Jesse Jackson.  His reply: "The reality of the situation, and the gravity and deprivation of this portly man of our divisive nation, gives him ALL the substantiation to be the King of public transportation."

To which Mama shouts, "Amen and pass the plate!"  (You know, the one that has the man-size portion of homemade mac 'n cheese...and it's fer me!!)

Mama

Try To Remember...Uh, How Does That Song Go?

Hey Porkers!

Mama comin' atcha with the latest health scare to hit the country:

                                                      

Belly Fat May Lead to Alzheimer's

I'd tell you more, but I can't remember anything else.  So, how are your brain cells?  Mama wants to know.
I'll tell you this:  Senior "moments" or "Docile Fossil Brain Farts" are increasingly found in young people.  Mama hypothesizes there is so much information and stress coming at people in this day and age that our brains are on constant overload. 

Mama says it's personally comforting that my brain overload is a steady companion to my obvious "wide load".  It's not enough that increased abdominal fat may be a factor in:  Diabetes II, heart disease, high blood pressure, stroke, potential joint problems, poor circulation, and depression.  Now we can add dementia to the list.

Perhaps, however, there is some comfort in this:  Even moderately fat people with their diabetes, heart disease, high blood pressure, stroke, joint problems, poor circulation and depression won't give a rat's ass cuz THEY WON'T REMEMBER A DAMN THING!

This is God's way of giving fatties a little reprieve from all the fat jokes, uncomfortable airplane seats, panty hose, rude stares, unkind comments, XXXL clothes and 48DD brassieres. You won't be able to bear resentments for past hurts, cuz YOU WON'T REMEMBER A DAMN THING!

Plus, think of the famous folks we could rub chubby elbows with:  Santa Claus, Buddha, Aretha Franklin, Luciano Pavarotti, Dom Deluise, Marlon Brando, and Barbara Streisand.  Well, Babs isn't known for her girth, but Mama suggests the possibility of obesity if anyone could ever see what she looks like behind her schnozola.  Of course, we couldn't tell anyone of our hob-nobbing with "celebs".  Why?  WE WON'T REMEMBER A DAMN THING!

Mama's of the opinion that this is one of the ways the "establishment" have set in motion widespread (pardon the pun) shunning of fat folks.  It is the same folks who ostracized smokers.  Fatties will have to be humiliated by public "weigh-ins", forced to eat a candy bar outside, in any kind of weather, at least 15 feet from the office doors.  Yes, friends, fatties will continue to be the butt, and I mean a large one, of people's disgust.  But that's OK, cuz NONE OF US WILL REMEMBER A DAMN THING thanks to the Man upstairs.

Yes, God is good.

Mama

Let's put the "fun" back in "dysfunctional"!

A few weeks ago, Mama wrote about the woman who sat on the crapper for two years.  Today, there's an update about her condition.  Apparently, you can't just sit on the toilet for an extended period of time and just get right back up again.  Who knew?  I must admit that I've spent a little bit of time thinking about this woman and her life in the bathroom for the last two years. 

Mostly, I have thought about what major holidays must have been like.  Wouldn't you like to have been a fly on the wall at Christmas last year?  Her boyfriend said he brought her food and water daily, but did he decorate for Christmas in there?  How cute would it be to have a little tree and festoon it with things you find in the bathroom?  Toilet paper rosettes, little soap ornaments, toothpaste "snow" on the branches.  There are tons of possibilities!

How about Labor Day?  I guess having a BBQ in the john would be a fire hazard, but you could keep your brewsky cold if you fill the tub with ice.

Halloween?  If the bathroom had a window, she could have given out candy without having to get up to answer the door.  And with a few rolls of TP, she could make a mummy costume for herself.

Alright, I've had my fun.  Now back to the story.  Her boyfriend was charged with a misdemeanor count of mistreatment of a dependent adult.  I guess I just don't get it.  This woman is 35.  Thirty-five.  If she is dependent on someone for her care, then that means she's mentally or physically disabled.  So where is her psychiatrist or doctor?  Someone from the hospital said, "She's a very sick girl."  Girl?  I'm 5 years younger than this lady, and I haven't been a "girl" for a long time.  Do I think her boyfriend should have contacted the authorities sooner?  Yes.  Do I think he's guilty of mistreatment?  No.  He didn't starve her; he asked her to come out and she kept procrastinating.

But I wonder about HIS mental health when I read this.  Let's just say their track record for taking care of themselves is not impressive.

Gina 

How Can We Miss Him If He Won't Go Away

Well, Reverend Doctor Jeremiah Wright is at it again; this time taking his racial slurs and combining them in the same article (dated Nov/Dec 2007 in The Trumpeter) as Jesus, Himself. Wright eulogizes the late Dr. Asa Hilliard, a self-confessed Afro-centrist, and compares him to Jesus. (Do a Google Search like Mama did: Jeremiah Wright Italian Slurs.  You'll find plenty of websites to go to...)

Mama wonders whazup with this dude?  I mean, really, will he ever shut-up?  Whether Obama's followers choose to believe or not, the Reverend is screwin' up the campaign big time.

Try this quote on for size: "(Jesus') enemies had their opinion about Him", Wright eulogized in an article ABOUT Hilliard.  "The Italians for the most part looked down their garlic noses at the Galileans".

Wright continues, "From the circumstances surrounding Jesus' birth (in a barn in a township that was under the Apartheid Roman government that said his daddy had to be in), up to and including the circumstances surrounding Jesus' death, on a cross, a Roman cross, public lynching Italian style..."

The "not-so-right" Reverend needs 1.  To take an English 101 course:  piss-poor sentence structure and repeated word phrases. 2. Garlic was NOT original to the Italians, Reverend MORON, it was introduced by the Egyptians and Mesopotamians.  Garlic was once a wild leek indigenous to Central Asia.  Mama theorizes that its seed was brought by members of Genghis Khan's invaders, if not brought "naturally" on the wind or by caravan and horse/camel droppings on the Silk Trade Road. 3. Re: Apartheid Roman government...dude, I get it, the Romans treatment of the Jews was egregious.  Unfortunately, the Romans were not the first to subjugate the Jews. So, what's the point, Rev?  Is this that liberal "Moral Relevancy" BS that you folks are so good at?  Jesus' crucifixion was almost 2,000 years ago. The term "apartheid" did not come into use until 1945-1950.  4.There was NO COUNTRY NAMED ITALY AT THE TIME OF CHRIST'S EARTHLY DEATH, YOU IDIOT!!  5. Take a damn world history class while you're back in school. 6.  Reread Exodus 20, you know where the 10 Commandments reside.  Check out #9, the one about "not bearing false witness against your neighbor.

The American people recognize you for who you are, Reverend Doctor Jeremiah Wright:  You, Sir, are a RACIST.

Mama

IT'S OFFICIAL...I'M SEXIER THAN SOMEONE ELSE OUT THERE

Sarah Jessica Parker was recently voted "Unsexiest Woman Alive" by the readers of Maxim magazine.  She's upset, and so is her husband, Ferris Bueller--I mean--Matthew Broderick.  I really don't understand why they actually care about this crap, but I guess when you're famous and have loads of money it really comes down to having to worry about SOMETHING.  Since there's no concern about how you'll afford to pay your bills every month, your kids aren't growing out of their shoes every other week, and the price of food and gas rising every day, what else is there to keep you up at night? 

But I digress.  Getting back to the reason for my post, I have a few things to say to the Unsexiest Woman Alive.

1. Be grateful you were voted anything.  I didn't even get a mention in Maxim magazine.  I could never hope to be voted Best Body, Most Toned Abs, or Million Dollar Butt.  I would settle for being given the title of Worst Hair, Scariest in a Swimsuit, or even Almost Deadly Breath.  It would be an honor.  It's not about the award, it's more about the general public acknowledging that I really am as horrible as I think I am.  (Kidding.)  What I would really love, though, is to carry the mantle of Best Lasagna West of the Rockies.
2. Take a closer look at what you were awarded: Unsexiest Woman Alive.  Don't you know what this means?  It means that somewhere there is a dead woman who is more unsexy than you.  Isn't that comforting?  It's nice to remember that decaying corpses look worse--even on your best days.  This also means that after you have assumed room temperature, some other woman will hold the UWA title.  It's like Teflon...nothing sticks.
3. It could be worse.  I was watching Sesame Street with my 18-month-old today, and I have to say that you bear a striking resemblance to Count Von Count's lady friend, creatively named "The Countess."  Don't believe me?  Take a look for yourself.  Am I right?  Of course, maybe you feel that being the Unsexiest Woman Alive is worse than being compared to a Muppet.  Which it is, who are we kidding here?
4. At least the award wasn't called Most Unsexiest Woman Alive.  That's grammatically incorrect, and terribly insulting.
5. Tell your husband to get over himself.  Why should he be so angry that other men find you unsexy?  Isn't that a good thing?  Or is it that he can no longer pretend to think you're gorgeous, and now must admit what all of us have thought for a long time: you are one creepy looking lady.  He needs to ask himself, "What would Ferris do?"  (The answer is take a day off, borrow a sports car, and be in a parade.)
6. If you're still feeling emotional about this whole Unsexiest Woman Alive thing, there's only one thing to do now...Two words: Ben and Jerry.  Maybe they'll name a flavor after you.  How about Repugnant Raspberry?

Gina

They've Become Gorditos Cuz They Eat Too Many 'Porquitos'

Mexico Becomes Second Fattest Nation in the World

Tuesday, March     25, 2008

 

 

With more than 71 percent of women and 66 percent of men considered overweight, Mexico has become the second fattest nation in the world, according to a McClatchy Newspapers report.

   

If the trend continues, Mexico could surpass the U.S. as the most obese country within 10 years, according to the report.

 

According to the latest national survey, a quarter of Mexican children ages 5 to 11 are too heavy — a 40 percent increase since 2000.

 

"People don't eat right anymore," said Garcia, who's run a fruit stand in central Mexico City for the past 10 years. "Instead of coming here and purchasing a fruit drink, they prefer to walk across the street and buy fried pork chips. That's why so many Mexicans are obese."

 

Health officials are blaming the expanding waistlines on Mexican's increased consumption of soft drinks and fast-food.

 

The consumption of soft drinks increased 60 percent in Mexico over the last 14 years, according to the government's National Institute of Public Health.

 

"It certainly snuck up on them," said Barry Popkin , a University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill professor who studies global weight gain. "Mexico has probably had the most rapid increase of obesity in the last 15 years."

OK, Blubberinos, we're talkin' serious, now.  Did you notice the most important sentence in that story?  "If the trend continues..."our south of the border neighbors could surpass US as the most obese people in the world.

Are we going to let them become THE world leader in immenseness?  NO!

This is an obvious concern for the fruit stand owner, "Garcia"  (which is the Smith or Wong of Mexican names); I mean, isn't EVERYONE in Mexico a Garcia? Anyway, he laments that instead of purchasing a fruit drink from him they prefer to "walk across the street and buy fried pork chips".

Well, what have we been told about fresh fruit stands in foreign countries?  If you want to avoid the "Aztec 2-Step" or "Moctezuma's Revenge" don't eat FRESH FRUIT or drink the water! Mama says, "Duh!"  That's why they're side-stepping Garcia's fruit stand in favor of the fried pork rinds...the lard (and I don't mean Mamacita) they fry the pork vittles in will kill off any amoebic dysentery.

It's interesting that Mexico's National Institute of Public Health has documented that consumption of soft drinks and fast-food has increased 60 percent over the last 14 years.  It would appear then, at least to Mama, that the average Mexican must have more money to spend than previously, because soft drinks and fast-foods are considerably more expensive than corn tortillas and frijoles, which are both national as well as cultural staples of Mexico.

The question that begs to be asked is, "So why are they coming here illegally in droves?"
Taco Bell's advertisement sums it up well:  "Make a run for the border", and they do, by the thousands!

Mama

Happy Easter

Hi!

Mama has been busy during Holy Week with extra services:  Maundy Thursday and Good Friday (my absolutely favorite service) and then two services tomorrow, which is Easter Sunday.  This is why I didn't write much on Thursday and didn't get squat accomplished until now and it's 11PM Saturday.

I wanted to bring one news story to your attention:  a Muslim by the name of Magdi Allam, Italy's most prominent Muslim commentator was baptized by Pope Benedict XVI himself during the Easter vigil mass at St. Peter's Basilica in Rome. Allam is an Egyptian-born non-practicing Muslim married to a Catholic woman.  He has come under fire by many Muslims for speaking out against Muslim extremism and support of the Jewish state. He has won awards for his writings and has been cited as one who has "worked ceaselessly to foster understanding and tolerance between cultures."

Regarding Allam's conversion to Roman Catholicism:  Good luck with that, Magdi.  I sincerely hope that some idiot Muslim extremist doesn't issue a fatwa against you. 

So, to Magdi and everyone else I say, Happy Easter!  Christ is risen,

See you on Monday.

Mama

A YOU'RE ADORABLE, B YOU'RE SO...DRIVING ME NUTS!

Anyone who knows me knows I have 2 daughters.  I think if I had to choose one word to describe them, it would be "diva".  They are both high-energy, high-drama, and highly annoying at times.  I'd like to paint a little literary portrait of each of my children.  It is by no means a detailed portrait, so maybe a better word would be "glimpse".  To truly experience all that my girls are, I invite you to come and live with me for a day or two.  (After which, you'll go home, sleep for a month, and thank whatever higher being you subscribe to that you've never had children, or that yours are grown, or that you don't have mine.)

Portrait #1: "Miss L"

This is my 4-year-old.  She does smile, but this is what she looks like after I get through brushing her hair.  I was able to put pig tails in it this time--it's been since Halloween that she's let me put her hair up.  She is getting to the age that it's okay with me if she doesn't take an afternoon nap.  She still needs one--which becomes painfully obvious around 6:30 in the evening--but I can tell her to find something to do by herself, and she'll give me some space for an hour or two.  That said, I can't take her to the store for fear of her screaming like she's being chased by an ax murderer because I won't let her run the debit card through the machine all by herself.  She helps around the house, on her own terms.  I can always tell where she's been because there is always a combination of pencil sharpener shavings, a pair of scissors (open), various bits of paper, and crayons or markers.  This is found wherever she goes.  I always think of the story of Hansel and Gretl as I'm vacuuming up the little tiny bits, and I wonder if my little girl will be able to find her way to the bathroom in time if I'm cleaning up her trail.  She uses big words, and knows what they mean.  Just the other day, when I threatened to take away her computer time if she didn't get dressed, she told me, "Actually, I was planning to not play the computer today."

Portrait #2: "Princess A" 

My 18-month-old is already her own woman.  She spends the majority of her day screaming about something, and I have been chewed out several times in gibberish.  The gibberish is usually accompanied by a red face, pointing finger, and accusing eyes.  Occasionally, there are tears.  She can get into trouble faster than I can keep her out of it, and when I do take her away from "trouble", she finds her way back.  Again.  And again.  And again.  And...again.  After the fact, I always ask myself why I don't make use of the playpen, but I guess that "college educated" doesn't mean "common sensical" when you become a parent.  Recently, her dad and I have decided to crack down on her habit of tossing her plate (food and all) onto the floor when she is finished eating.  We tell her she's made a poor choice and now has to pick it up.  The first night we did this, we had to physically make her pick up the bits and pieces, and as she's placing each piece into the garbage she's praising herself, "Good job.  Good job.  Good job!"  She won't eat meat unless it is the Dinosaur Chicken Nugget variety, but a few days ago, I was able to trick her into eating her hamburger by calling it a "meat cookie".  The comment I receive from well-meaning people is, "What a free spirit!"  Which translates to, "Good luck to you; I hope you live through this."

Is it a surprise that I'm exhausted by the time 4 PM rolls around?

My husband and I have already discussed the fact that we would like more children.  We aren't ready for more at this point, but someday, we would welcome another couple of little people into our lives.  I told him, "If we have another girl, just drop me off at the asylum on your way home from the hospital.  You may come to visit me, but please, don't bring the children."

Last night, I had a strange dream.  I dreamed there was a brand new baby at our house, but I was so busy doing damage control with my two girls that several family members who appeared in the dream were asking me, "When was the last time you fed the baby?"  At which time, I would gasp with sudden awareness, run to make a bottle, but somehow, the baby never got it.  This happened over and over again in the dream until I woke up in a panic.  When I told my sister about this, she said, "See?  It's God's way of telling you not to have another baby."

Message received.

Gina

FLC Contest: You submit the punchline

Hi:

Mama's covering Gina's, well, you know, cuz she's been "under the weather" and has 2 little ones to boot!  Speaking of feeling under the weather...Get a load of the following news story.

A German retiree is taking a hospital to court after she went in for a leg operation and got a new anus instead, the Daily Telegraph is reporting.

   

The woman woke up to find she had been mixed up with another patient suffering from incontinence who was to have surgery on her sphincter.

 

The clinic in Hochfranken, Bavaria, has since suspended the surgical team.

 

Now the woman is planning to sue the hospital. She still needs the leg operation and is searching for another hospital to do it.

OK, FLC Blog fans:  You submit the punchline.  Funniest punchline will receive absolutely nothing but we will give you credit in our blog.  So, go for it...this story is too funny NOT to be true.

Mama

 

Someone Told Me It's All Happening at the Zoo

Hi Pudge-muffins!

Mama here bringing you the latest news from the Brookfield Zoo in Chicago, Illinois.  While other bloggers are gearing up for the great Obama speech critique, Mama decided that you all can read the speech transcript on the internet just like I did and determine your own opinion.  I certainly do not need some puffed-up television journalist feel the social responsibility to "explain" the speech to me.  Therefore, Mama feels the greater news comes from our disenfranchised animal friends over at the Brookfield Zoo.

Apparently the problem at the city zoo is that the animals are overweight.  You know, they're not fat; they're obese.  These guys have quite the "racket" going; they even have an in-house nutritionist to keep a watchful eye on their caloric intake.

With this in mind the Zoo experts are doing a point-counting system similar to the one Weight Watchers uses.

I guess the animals are quite the snack-fiends because they don't have anything else to do all day but lay around.  It's not like they have to go hunt their food, right?   For example, the monkeys love frozen orange juice cubes (worth 2 points), the polar bears favorite snack?  Granola Bars @ 1 point per bar.  When these lazy fat-asses have consumed their maximum number of snack points per day they don't get anymore snacks.  Simple logic, right?  Since they don't have refrigerators, microwaves, popcorn makers or espresso machines their "access to excess" is dependent upon the former generosity of the zookeepers.

Finally, animals in captivity have been observed to have cardiovascular disease, diabetes, and the #1 killer of animals (especially gorillas...aren't they the closest to us on the evolutionary chain?) is heart disease.

While Mama has no desire to see an animal friend with an oxygen hook-up or having to use one of those motorized wheelchairs to get around their habitat, the fact remains clear that they don't need LESS food, they need MORE to do.

Why not have phony gazelles or zebras on motorized carts, scented with their musky scent, "drive" by in the habitat to give the wild cats something to do?  Let them run off the extra calories.  Plus it'd poop them out and they'd be less likely to be aggressive if they were so damn tired they fell asleep shortly after the supper meal.

Why not expect the elephants, monkeys, and seals to entertain the rest of us?  God knows none of these animals do a damn thing all day long.  Mama can attest to the number of zoo visits she has made over the years and the animals don't make any effort to do anything until the last feeding of the day when they are then herded into their cages.  You don't think they'd leave them unattended in those million-dollar habitats, do you?

Hell no, a group of them would get together and trek on down to the nearest McDonald's for some REAL grub.

MAMA