Question from a Reader: Are you fat?

My Response:

HOW. DARE. YOU.

UGH! You should KNOW BETTER. I thought that only intelligent people could appreciate my blog, but obviously I was wrong.

So I’ll put 2 and 2 together for you:

1. I’m shallow. I’m shallow, and I hate fat or ugly people. And I love myself more than words can describe. People say that no love is stronger than the love between a mother and her child. This is not true. The love between me and myself is far stronger than that. I am my soul mate, I am the wind beneath my wings, and there’s no fucking way I’ll love my children more than I love myself. Believe me, if I had to choose between feeding Peter Jr. or feeding myself, Peter Jr. would have the distended belly and sad malnourished eyes of an Ethiopian child. Now that’s self love. And this love would not be possible if I were either fat or ugly.

2. I wear 4-5” heels. Do you think a fat chick could possibly waddle about in stilettos?!?! Jesus Christ! The bitch would eat asphalt every 4 steps! Also, the pressure that high heels exert on the balls of your feet is proportional to your body weight, so no fat girl could possibly withstand such pressure. It would be like walking on your tippy toes with a walrus strapped to your back.

3. I’M ASIAN. How fucking unlucky would I be if I were one of the 4 Asian females in America who is overweight? GOD. Those poor things. If I were one of them, I’d be so ashamed that I wouldn’t even tell anyone that I was Asian. “Ha! I’m flattered that you think I’m Asian as they’re clearly the most intelligent and most sexually desirable girls in the world, but I’m Samoan, silly!”

4. If I were fat, I’d have tig ol’ bitties, which I truly believe are the keys to living a fulfilling life. I’d treat my breasts as though they were my best friends who went everywhere with me – referring myself instead as “us” and “we.” For example: WE want a ham and cheese sandwich. WE want to find someone to lick OUR nipples. WE want to find a man who is as funny as WE are.

If you still don’t get it, I’ll spell it out for you: NO, I’M NOT A HIPPO, and statistically speaking, YOU are probably fatter than I. I’m merely a failed anorexic who will never give up on her dreams of having ribs that are so well defined you could hang Christmas ornaments from them.

But thanks for your ignorant question. Keep ‘em coming!