Well, I am overweight. I am morbidly obese, in fact. 

Society these days is all about worshipping the skinny, bone-thin supermodels and ripped actors. So for me it is a daily struggle to be the food-worshipper that I am. Because, well, I have to waddle through life being the center of attraction (no gravitational pun intended) due to my massive size, rather than my good looks. 

And if I go food shopping, which I do, each week, it is a matter of pushing two shopping carts around with me, and a two-hour trip around the supermarket because damnit, I am slow. 

I spend hundreds of dollars per week on food – and you know what, I love it! I love to eat rubbish foods and pollute my body, it is just the way I am. I know I should eat a small bowl of rice rather than a bucket of deep-fried chicken – but you know what? Food makes me feel better.

If I’m hungry, sad, depressed, the spices, the oil, the fat, the tender salty meat goodness contained in a bucket of K.F.C. is like a little comfort pillow to me. It gives me a moment of pure bliss, while I cover my face in fats and shove the meat into my mouth. I used to crunch up the bones to get as much out of the meal as possible – but now I just buy two meals. 

Well, I’m a fat bugger. It’s true. I will have heart problems and health problems (I already do) – but this is me. The food is available, and I want it. And, I can get it. It’s simple. 

But being massively overweight in today’s society is actually not quite as horrible as one might think. For example there’s a hell of a lot of fat people here in Texas, I’m more like the ‘fat guy’ of the fat people. There’s probably some support groups out there, and I do chat on IRC with other heffers like myself (mostly about food), so that also helps. There’s plenty of us, there really are. And all we have to conquor is the stares and occasional giggles and comments. But yes, I am aware that my ass requires three bus seats, and that I ought to cart my belly around in a wheelbarrow – and I am happy to be this way. Well, strictly speaking I’d rather be a muscular twenty-year old, but I’m me, in whatever shape or form.

I have plenty to contribute to society. Now in this communication age, I don’t need to meet anyone face-to-face if I don’t want to. I can be myself, my ideas, I can add my brain’s computational power to the world despite having manboobs the size of a hock of ham. 

So, if you’re like me, a great big fat lump of stored energy, then rejoice! We’re living in the right era for people like us – and we’re a dying breed. A health revolution will hit the country soon and we’ll be long forgotten…