Called It

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So, I’m currently holding the wee bit of left bollock that  hasn’t retreated up my abdomen with the rest of the kit. A feat courtesy of  hearing that my shift starts at 4:15 AM. As such I can’t bring you the regularly scheduled joy of disjointed rambles that would make a a schizophrenic shaman on a peyote bender seem like a card carrying Presbyterian freemason.  (Yes, I stole that last bit from Billy Connoly.)

Therefore I share with you my gleeful joy in confirming that FATTIES ARE MOST AFFECTED. If you’re a jolly person of size. No beef with you. If you have a glandular problem. I’ve no donut with you. If you just don’t give a fuck. I’ve no quarter pounder with you. Yes, this is the shittiest joke of all time. Welcome to history cunts.

No, the thing I have a problem with is moralizing fatasses wagging wingers (lol that was a typo but imagonnakeepit) at folk exercising because of a HEALTH CRISIS.

Darling….you are the health crisis:

https://www.unz.com/jthompson/critical-care-of-fatness/

I am of course being a self referential prick (as usual):

and NOW they care about health or Should Walruses Vote

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