Call me uncharitable if you must but I’ve just had what should have been a perfect afternoon in the park ruined by people who insisted on removing their shirts despite the bodies that they ‘sported; beneath them.
As the weather got hotter (real-feel 41c) the sea of blue-white veined, gravity obeying flesh on display grew exponentially - until the entire park was alive with the sight of rolls of fat oscillating revoltingly with each step towards next grazing opportunity. And with the sound of saggy tits hitting flabby knee as women barely in contained by oversized, mismatched, bra and panties made beeline for the ice cream van.
It was revolting. A mass of overfed, under-shamed blobs ramming more and more barbequed food into their revolting gullets. Spitting onion as they asked for the next hot-dog, eyes darting around ready to glare at any slack jawed witness to the consequences of their gluttony.
Now I’m not in great shape myself at the moment. Which is why the T-Shirt stays on and the shorts do more than merely cover my nads.
What is it motivates these people? Sure there’s always somebody with a worse body than yours, but then there’s always someone with worse manners than yours and you don’t take a dump in the fruit bowl at dinner, do you?
I felt sorry for the realtors trying to flog their high end apartments with ‘view if the park’ – a view into an abattoir would have been more appealing.
So here’s a plea. Please, fat people of the ‘burg, keep the shirts on and the shorts long. In return I promise not to start a web site called www.see_the_freaks_eat.com and swear that I’ll not post your pictures there. Deal?
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