Why Does Society Treat the Handifat like they are Actually Disabled?

I’m so sick of this shit.  I for one am not treating these people with kid’s gloves any longer.  If you’ve eaten yourself into a lack of mobility, then fuck you, get out of the way and ideally quit breathing valuable oxygen.  I’d say quit drinking valuable water, but the Handifat don’t drink water, unless you are including the water used to make XL Diet Cokes they are so fond of.  You know, the giant Diet Coke that is somehow going to erase the Biggie Size Big Mac Extra Value Meal you just crushed?  Why are people giving these selfish assholes the right of way, opening things for them, letting them go first, helping them in any way?  I don’t see anyone helping crack heads out with anything.  “Oh, I’m so sorry you smoke so much crack.  You poor thing, let me help you with that door.”  No, people treat crack heads like they have 1st degree leprosy and aggressive B.O.  But why would you treat the Handifat any differently?  They more than likely DO have B.O.  And at least I understand crack, it actually gets you HIGH.  Eating too much makes you feel like shit.  But because they have so little self control we are supposed to carry on as though they deserve our pity, respect and assistance?  Bullshit.  You deserve our indifference, possibly our scorn.  What triggered this diatribe?  Well, #1 I’m a dick.  It is that simple, I’m an asshole.  Guilty as charged.  #2 is the loathsome bitch that takes the same bus home with me nearly every day.  She has eaten her way to such success that she can barely walk anymore and has to move around with some sort of walker type device.  She isn’t old, she isn’t handicapped.  She is Handifat sure as your Sister Susan.  Really though, that is okay, live and let live, I never say.  But it is her absolutely fucking belligerent miserable cunt attitude that is so unacceptable.  Because she has the air of real, tangible disability, some poor new sap each and every day tries to be nice and let her walk onto the bus first.  Poor bastards!  Those of us who ride with this wretch daily know you are in for a tongue lashing when you try to be polite: “No! You go ahead, they are gonna have to lower it anyway!”.  As she blubbers this chastisement she waves her pork fat arms to and fro in most alarming fashion and has the face of a sinister wraith.  To clarify, when she says “They are gonna have to lower it anyway!”, she means that the driver is going to have to lower the bus and deploy the ramp, due to the fact she cannot separate her tree trunk legs more than 1cm from the pavement.  So once this poor individual has been made to feel like shit for trying to be polite to this salty bitch and boards the bus, the rest of us follow.  And she stands and watches.  Check that, she doesn’t watch, she glares.  The most menacing glare she can muster, with head shaking in constant disapproval of us all.  Her tormentors.  We who have not disabled ourselves through gluttony.  And when we’ve all boarded, it is time for the bus driver to get a taste of her fat aggression.  It does not matter if the driver does or does not know what she wants.  It does not matter if the driver has already started to deploy the ramp before the last mobile rider has paid.  No matter what this driver does, Cunthilda is going to cast her evil countenance at them with hurricane force and yell, “You have to lower it!”  As she slithers aboard she flashes one last mean-spirited glance in the driver’s  direction before shaking her head in disgust and waddling toward two seats.  Did the bus driver tether you against your will on a daily basis and force-feed you for years, ala Kevin Spacey in the movie 7even?  No, they are doing their job and you are cattle.  This is not their fault.  And once she inevitably eats her way onto a Rascal, watch the fuck out, because she’s going to be an even more insufferable twat.  I am friends with a guy who is legitimately disabled.  And if he could, he would get up and slap the donut out of your Handifat mouth. 

In summation, could we organize a mass Handifat drive (e.g. cattle drive) to herd them and their Rascals into their natural habit; West Virginia?  I will gladly ride my bicycle along the periphery of the herd, cracking a whip to knock the Cheetos from their engorged hands, all the way back to Huntington and beyond.       

About Zach

Male homo sapien. Warrior poet. I live in Chicago with one wife, one offspring, and Scout the dog. I enjoy various stuff. Besides skinny skiing and going to bullfights on acid, I also enjoy running, reading, drinking, eating and procrastinating on many things, such as starting this blog. I have a mom, a dad, and a younger brother who recently produced a sister-in-law. I'm the only person in my family, sister-in-law included, who doesn't have a post-graduate degree. I guess that makes me special. I grew up in a small to medium sized town in the middle of Ohio. In fact the even smaller town next door has a sign which reads "The Geographic Center of Ohio". Given this is what they choose to boast you can only imagine how exciting that town is. My town is infinitely cooler. For example on weekend nights people from my town and the surrounding villages and hamlets converge on the public square to "cruise" in their souped-up mini trucks, some bearing Confederate flags, despite growing up and living rather safely north of the Mason-Dixon line. This is high-minded stuff we're talking about here. I graduated sometime during the Clinton presidency from the local high school where I played football and participated in absolutely nothing else. This strategy paid huge dividends when I applied to numerous colleges on the eastern seaboard which were highly selective. When you show up to the admissions table with "HIgh School Football and Nothing Else" on your application, you get respect. After graduating from Ohio University with a degree in Economics that I've used for absolutely nothing, I moved to Boston. Boston is a lovely city. I was doing things I'm not proud of for beer money and I left after 16 months. My next move was to Chicago and 10+ years later there I still reside. I write this blog for therapeutic reasons. Much like some people paint to relax or smoke crack to unwind after a stressful day, I record my thoughts on Al Gore's World Wide Web for 9 friends, 4 family members, 1 person who accidentally clicked through after an unsuccessful Google search for something else, and a guy named Patriot1 who lives in a silver Air Stream in the Nevada desert and broadcasts his own radio show. Is there a point to all of this? I doubt it. Years ago and in a galaxy far, far away (College Park, Maryland, then Athens, Ohio) I was toying with the idea of being a journalism major. I enjoyed writing so it seemed the obvious fit. Then I attended career day and learned that journalism majors could look forward to a salary of $EA,TSH.IT per year with the promise of a fatal heart attack at 47 years of age. I'm not falling for that trick, I told them (them being no one, and told being saying it in my own mind in the shower). Approximately 15 years later here I sit declared the big winner in that battle: I never made any money doing anything else and now I'm writing entirely for free. So suck balls, journalism career day. The views expressed in this website are mine and mine entirely. I don't wish to be an even bigger black eye to my family than I probably already am. As a result of this I will never be able to run for public office and I accept that reality. But this website is a very dignified, well-dressed skeleton full of witty retorts and honorable deeds compared to the disheveled, stenching, staggering and loud skeletons who would come marching out of the closet to White Zombie's "Thunderkiss '65" if they ever unearthed the college years. So enjoy your train ride, your hangover day at work, your AA meeting or your dump. I'm here to serve.
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9 Responses to Why Does Society Treat the Handifat like they are Actually Disabled?

  1. Anonymous says:

    God, I hate that b. She totally has whiskers too…clearly because her pork arm probably doesn't have the strength to lift tweezers. “you're gonna have to to LOWER IT!”. We get it! You're a pig and somehow it's our fault that the bus doesn't drive up “lowered”. Goddammit, I hate her. Nice work.

  2. jayne metz says:


  3. Anonymous says:

    I'm alarmed by the insidious movement for fat acceptance. All of this “You have a hormonal disorder”, “You need to accept your body”, and “You're beautiful just the way you are” bullshit needs to be stopped before it gains steam. You're not attractive in a full-figured kind of way? My dick vehemently disagrees, as it retreats like a frightened turtle in your presence. And don't give me that Peter Paul Rubens bullshit, just because someone has a fetish for something doesn't mean everyone else likes it.


  4. Anonymous says:

    Dammit…the third sentence should read “You're attractive in a full-figured kind of way?”


  5. katie216 says:

    was on the redline with this bitch today, could not believe it.

  6. Was it the very same bitch we speak of above? With the whiskers and menacing glare? I'm glad you survived.

  7. katie216 says:

    Yes! “You all are gonna have to wait! They gotta put the ramp down!Make way!” Total troll cunt, yet experiencing this fat in person made my day.

  8. That is indeed her. No better way to close out your work week than to bask in her glazed ham glow.

  9. Anonymous says:

    why do you hate fat people, did they try to eat you?

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