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| cinema, local, time, bible, short films, illustrated, arsinée khanjian, productions, write, catherine breillat, fat girl dances with rocks, bookreader, shorts, tits, low fat cooking, | I don't. I do not endear myself to you. I don't put on airs. I am not that pleasant. The older I get the less pleasant I am. If you have never been fat, you may find me interview and my story repugnant. interview There's not much I can do about this. Part of the Fat Girl story I gave to someone to read and he told me, flat out, interview that it was repellent. I thought, but did not say, "Then, how can you say you like me?" I realized that he did not like me. He tolerated me. Fuck him. You can't hide your fat. But the truth about fat gets hidden in many books fat women write about being fat. Now that Fat Girl's written, printed and distributed, now that Fat Girl's ready to be read, I ask myself why so much gets left out when fat women write about being fat. According to the thin or the formerly or even presently fat, the fat person lacks willpower, pride, this wretched attitude called "self esteem," and does not care about his friends or family because if she did care about friends or family, she would not wander the earth looking like a repulsive sow, rhinoceros, hippo, elephant, or, general nine-headed monster. |
Best Fat Paysites
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| Thin people who once were fat don't forget fat jokes. When you lose fifty pounds and you're with someone who didn't know you when you were a tub 'o lard, you well may make fat jokes too. The worst (and dirtiest) I ever heard was "You'd have to roll her in flour to find low fat cooking the wet spot." Some fat girls become anorexic women. Some anorexic women die of starvation. That's truly low fat cooking sad, much sadder than fatness. Fat women who wrote about how they were fat ignored the aesthetics of low fat cooking food. They did write about how, for many fat people, food is more than peach pie, more than consolation, more than love. But nobody fat, writing about fat, quite got down to the nub of how much she admired the greasy sheen on hamburger buns, admired that grease as if it were Art, as if that oily patina (acquired on an ancient, filthy grill) were the "unravish'd bride of quietness" Keats admires in his "Ode on a Grecian Urn." Narrators of first-person claptrap like what you read in Fat Girl often greet the reader at the door with hugs and kisses. |
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