Thanks for the kind words. Much appreciated.
this = Nzinga, seated’s post
First, yes. It was an excellent, though not very judgy, post.
Second, the “Shot from Guns is fat/unattractive/etc” is ridiculous. Sure, she doesn’t have a supermodel bod, and she’s probably not going to launch more than a few ships, let alone a thousand, but give me a break. I’d give her a solid 6-7, unless there are any weird things not apparent in the photo. And I am pretty sure she and I have had words in other threads before.
But here’s the deal: you boys sitting there saying “She ain’t all that” with a flamboyant snap are going to get up from the computer, pull on a hopefully clean t-shirt that says “Vulcans do it better”, grease back your scraggly ponytail, and go roll the dice for 6 hours with some similarly ill-attired fellows.
A real dude who is attractive enough to be so picky, and I have confirmed this via experimentation by consultation, will not go off about how fat she is and will not quote song lyrics from Queen about fat asses (also, Queen = homo, so there might be some conflict of interest there).
No, he will not even care how hot she thinks she is. He doesn’t care because he actually just doesn’t care.
On the other hand, the claims in this thread ring hollow, like the pudgy alternative sports jock who “wouldn’t touch Britney Spears with your dick” and is dating a huge woman who would give a bulldog a run for it’s money in the looks department.
I think the whole photo bashing is more that you know you couldn’t get that, or that you settled for less, and it tears you up inside to have it shoved in your face that she actually is out of your league. It’s the same sort of denial she’s bitching about with the fatties. And the damnedest thing is, had she posted her pic in any other context, and I said “Look at that, she’s a fatty, hur hur” I guarantee you dumb dildos would be all over me, posting things like “He don’t know what he talkin’ bout, girl, u hot!” and climbing over each other in order to try and win the internet approval of an actual girl who has a waist and friends.
It’s the ageless cry of the guy who is poor with the ladies. It’s not looks, or size, either. Fat dudes can pick up hot chicks, no problem. As long as you’re not rocking the Clint Howard face, you can pick up girls that are insanely hotter than you. And even if you are a genuine uglo-american, a nice car, job, or suit will take care of that little issue.
Nope, the problem is esteem. She’s got it, you don’t. It hurts to be reminded that you stutter and spontaneously mention your masturbation habits when a girl talks to you. It’s painful to have your denial compromised. Fact is, 99% of you would jump on that like starving man on a Big Mac. You’d try to play it cool, but no one would be fooled.
Just like the way the only people being fooled by your comments on how she has a big ass is you. Pathetic.
don’t you mean “like a morbidly obese person with no self control on a Big Mac” 
Yeah, there are going to be comments about fat people on the public stage. Everyone knows that and in my opinion it doesn’t carry all that much weight. But in a forum like this, where certain people go on and on about what fat, lazy (and by implication, worthless) people they are, the effect can be potentially much more harmful. To a degree it’s all in the context.
But my comment to you wasn’t intended to say that no mention must ever be made by anyone with regard to people being overweight or fat, but just to say that I think taking the attitude that being mindful of the psychological well being of others is something worthwhile and not equivalent to “internet baby-sitting”, a term that strikes me as being indicative of a callous disregard for the feelings of others and/or their psychological well being.
This isn’t to say that I think any mention of a weight problem is going to send someone over the edge, but I do think that particularly mean-spirited, mocking ones like Imasquare alluded to has that kind of potential.
You’ll be carrying that weight a long time.
Or on the other hand, ivn, it might just be that we’re throwing her own shit back at her. That we might be trying to make her aware of how she’s coming across to everyone else? And that we might be doing it as a way of taking up for the people she’s hurt so they see her flaws and therefore don’t feel so bad? Is all that really so hard to see?
OK, in fairness that looks more like a bona fide female. I rescind my gender panic, for now.
Hahaha.
Bullshit.
You’re all just here to stand up for everyone’s feelings and increase sensitivity? To make the world a better place, and to hold hands while we all sing kumbayah?
That would almost be believable had I not seen every single one of you posting the same sort of thing as the OP. It’s just in those cases you weren’t offended on that group’s behalf, or alternatively, those folks don’t have feelings like fat people in denial do.
In other words: :rolleyes:
Spoken like a man who doesn’t like to admit it when he’s wrong. I’m confident most readers will see the truth in what I said.
Meh. As someone always says, I may be fat, but you’re a douche and I can lose weight.
Starving Artist, I promised myself I wasn’t going to grin at schadenfreude and smirk at another person’s misfortune. I gave up being bitchy for Lent. You gots to stop. 
Fat girl confessional time!
So here is a funny story: I was logging my food intake on a website with a friend or two. That friend looked at my food intake – after a day I thought I’d rather pigged out – and said “Damn, girl, are you counting your calories? You need to eat something before you pass out!” I checked (I’d been following my nutritionist’s advice and ignoring calories, since if you eat the right kinds of whole foods it more or less evens out) and discovered that I was right around a thousand calories, including snacks and breakfast and lunch, before dinnertime.
That said, if I don’t pay attention to what I eat, I eat a lot of bad stuff like beef jerky and breaded chicken breast sandwiches and ice cream. My diet by itself isn’t great, but the idea of french fries and fried chicken and fast-food burgers makes my gorge rise. Eugh. Pasta and cream sauces and ribeye steaks and potatoes, though, are my downfall.
I’ve lost twenty pounds and kept it off. I have a lot more to go. The secret I’ve found is to find healthy food you love and go for that. Do you like carrots? Go for carrots. Do you think carrots suck but grapes and apples are your thing? Bananas? Broccoli? Tomatoes? There’s going to be something out there, maybe something you’ve never tried. I discovered that my love for shrimp extends not just to butter-drenched scampi but shrimp gently basted with light olive oil, grilled, and drizzled with lemon. I also discovered that this meal exists along with some marvelously grilled vegetables at Macaroni Grill, mecca of all things creamy and carb-y, and clocks in at something under 300 calories. If I had the money I’d eat it for dinner every night.
Yeah, I’ve been fat ever since high school. I thought I was fat even when I was running two miles every morning: I really am one of those people with a large build, and this paired with the fact that I’m of average height means I’m basically your typical fantasy dwarf: you can’t knock me over or break my bones, but in a world where the guys mostly gravitate toward the willowy elf chicks, I’m over here with my axe and a snarky attitude. Weirdly, though, because of my lack of ass and my comparatively narrow hips, my bulk is front-loaded. I am slightly uncomfortable in some of the narrower movie theater seats, perfectly comfortable in most others – even with the armrests down – and while I can think of a thousand places I’d rather be than in an airplane, I can sit in a seat without lapping over onto the person next to me.
When I was going to karate class three nights a week for six months, I lost neither weight nor size. No kidding. My diet wasn’t great (though exercise deadens my appetite – how great is that?) but I gained lovely muscle and felt a million times better. The routines were utterly exhausting, but I could walk a brisk mile without getting winded and my body did more or less what I told it to. I plan to do that again, though my preferred school is about an hour away from my home and a half hour from my work. I started doing situps a few weeks ago, twenty-five a night and working up, and today I lugged a few tons of boxes and antique oak furniture for three hours and… all right, I’m exhausted and aching and it took a thirty minute shower and a two hour nap for me to feel human again, but the ache feels wonderful right now.
I got some inspiration at work, strangely. It was our team’s last day as a team before getting reassigned, and our manager had brought in evil horrible desserts for a treat – mini-brownies, ice cream, eclairs, strawberry cheesecake. I indulged in a little slice of the latter and chatted with one of the girls on my now-former team, only to discover this cute, pixieish girl had once been a hundred pounds heavier. Holy crap! Here she was, the perfect picture of indie-girl cuteness, and from what she said she’d once been (cough) my size.
“So what did you do about it?” I inquired hopefully. “How did you get it all off.”
She sighed and admitted: “Two and a half years of hard fucking work.”
Worth it, though, to look like her. It is hard fucking work. And I can blame my fat on my upbringing, where every event and outing and family gathering was based around food. I can blame my mother and her amazing cooking. I can blame both sides of the family: my mom’s and my dad’s family both tend toward the weighty. I can blame the PCOS and the diabetes for making the weight easy to gain and hard to lose. I can blame the sedentary American lifestyle and the especially pedestrian-unfriendly Texan city planning that makes even going across the street to the grocery store difficult and exhausting, especially between March and October. I can blame the fact that I’m ALREADY fat and it’s harder to lose weight than to avoid gaining it. I can blame my busy schedule and my subsequent difficulty in finding time to get my ass moving.
But I’m taking steps. I’m lucky enough to have insurance that will cover visits to a nutritionist with a copay. My company’s new building is going to have a gym, and I can force myself in there before or after work or at lunch instead of sitting on my ass playing video games. I could also just find an exercise mat and do my karate class’s stretches and calisthenics routine – half an hour to forty-five minutes of brutally exhausting action that requires no equipment at all. It is possible. It is fucking hard, but it is possible. I don’t think I’ll go the route of one lady I know and write my weigh-ins with grease pencil on my bathroom mirror, but I might put before and after pictures of her and the girl from work and tape them to my fridge.
I try to be a good Christian – ehh, just a good person – and remind myself that the people who sneer and who make nasty comments just don’t get it. I remind myself that I feel about tobacco and alcohol the way they do about food: I smoked a little in college and I drink a little now, but when I felt the first pangs of addiction to nicotine I cut cigarettes out entirely and though my family has, on both sides, a tendency toward alcohol addiction, I’ve never had a problem with that. I had my “getting sloppy drunk” phase in college, got it out of my system, and now only drink good alcohol with friends to a point or two beyond buzzed when I know I’m not driving. I avoid the little temptation to drink to the point of throwing up or seriously losing control. Dad – not an alcoholic, but related to many – speaks approvingly of my ability to say “Yes, that whiskey is mighty fine, but I’m going to have a glass of water and a piece of bread now, thanks.” Myself, I don’t understand what the big struggle is in that. Guns doesn’t get what the big struggle is in eating right. I guess there might be something there.
My advice: Take control of your life. Take responsibility for your actions. Find out what’s preventing you from doing what you want to do and work around it – or right through it. Don’t make excuses: find reasons and overcome challenges.
And don’t take anyone on the internet seriously. The opinions of some chick in yellow socks have on effect on my fucking life, and since I know for damn sure my life is a hell of a lot happier, more fun, and fulfilling than 90% of the people out there, I could give two shits about what anyone else thinks.
Life is GOOD.
I’m sure that you and the other socially inept guys nailing or aspiring to nail hoagly chicks will agree. Like I said, denial is a strong, strong force.
Guns doesn’t log in on the weekends.
Look douchenozzle, just cuz you take your dating advice and experience in the matters of the birds and bees from the bad side of the truck stop gloryhole, doesn’t mean everyone else does. She ISN’T that attractive to support the diarrhea coming from her mouth. Frankly, no one is. That is a turn-off.
I realize that you have no use for a woman thirty seconds after you have laid the pair of Jacksons on the sink of the 7-11 bathroom, but there is more to it than the rush to have the knucklechildren leave your body and scoot out the door while she finishes up her rock. Some men DO care about things other than how quickly will she get me off…
There is a balance between HOT and get the fuck over yourself that makes a woman attractive or unattractive. I know this completely blows the remainng brain cell that isn’t occupied with the 2 hour cumshot compilation you found in the dollar bin behind the curtain at the neighborhood video store, but THAT’S the reality
I’ll have you know I’ve been blown off by much better looking chicks than her.
Wait, what?
And great post, Little Plastic Ninja. Thanks for taking the time to write it. You just might win the thread. 
Thanks.
But come to think of it, she wasn’t around here yesterday either (or not in this thread anyway).
Wow! You need to be composing some Pit OPs! That’s a lot of talent you’ve been wasting around here.
what the fuck does this mean? only hot people can be mean?
well, I guess i’m still allowed anyway.
Did you miss the very next sentence?
i’m sorry your weltanschauung has been polluted with mirrors and ugly people.
CircleofWillis is out of cialis, so he’s a little cranky. Why must you be so mean!?
I think they mean that if you state that you’re “smoking hot”, you shouldn’t have bug-eyes that sort of point in different directions and your nose shouldn’t look like it’s been broken a number of times.