Your response to the fat couple with the lackluster sex life was no better
or worse than most of the mainstream media’s information about fat people…
which is to say, it was incorrect, unhelpful, and silly. I’m a happy, healthy
fat chick. My boyfriend is a happy, healthy fat guy. I’m an adorable 270 pounds,
and he’s a sexy 350 or so. We enjoy an active, varied, and satisfying sex life.
Now, I’m guessing that your first reaction is to express concern about
our health. I hate to disappoint you, but we’re both healthy! We exercise regularly,
eat our veggies, and we floss. It might reassure you to know that the lad and
I both have perfectly normal blood pressure, blood sugar, and cholesterol levels.
Life is much better out of the fat closet. Before I came out, I used to worry
that my lovers would notice my fat butt; now I make sure...
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...the fat closet. Before I came out, I used to worry
that my lovers would notice my fat butt; now I make sure they notice it. I don’t
allow that number on the scale to keep me from any of the joys of life, and
that most definitely includes the joys of sex.
For more information on the fat revolution, check out the new book FAT!SO?
from Ten Speed Press, written by me.
Oh, Marilyn, please. If you’re happy fat, that’s fine, and if your fat ass isn’t getting in the way of your joy, have a Snickers bar. But the guy I was responding to wasn’t happy, and fat was messing with his joy. He took issue with his wife’s fat ass, and to make everything equal, I took issue with his. I’ve read FAT!SO? and I recommend it. But you have a political agenda (get happy fat!) while I have an advice agenda (unhappy fat? lose some weight). Yes, bodies come in different shapes and sizes, and we need to be more accepting of difference. Personally, I think the new Mega-Monica looked great on Saturday Night Live. But advising adults whose tastes have been shaped by forces beyond their control, your control, and my control to learn to love fat asses–well, that isn’t particularly realistic or helpful.
On the health side, being too fat–like being too thin–can endanger your
health. Fat is only a risk factor, which means a fat person may never actually
suffer an obesity-related illness (though you don’t see many 270-pound little
old ladies running around, do you?). That you and the boyfriend are currently
healthy doesn’t mean obesity isn’t potentially harmful. Think of it like this:
None of my friends who smoke have cancer–at the moment. If you’re comfortable
fat and comfortable with the attendant risks, then you don’t need my advice,
or anyone else’s. Like my friends who smoke, it’s your business. But the guy
who wrote me wasn’t happy, and asked for my advice. So?
Considering how quick you are to whine about stupidity in others, you show
an amazing surplus. That an “average serving” of semen is anything close to
five tablespoons is preposterous. To claim that something which is over 80 percent
water has more calories by volume than pure sugar (16 cal/tsp) is equally preposterous.
And where did you get that “17 grams of fat” figure from? The “average serving”
is about one teaspoon. Take away the water and the “residue,” and what you have
left is a mixture of protein and sugar. At a whopping four cal/gram for proteins
and eight calories for pure fats, we’re not even up to two calories if the guy
was shooting Crisco.
Right you are, MWG. Somehow my research assistant, Kevin, confused the fat and calorie content in two servings of crème fraîche with that in one serving of come. We all make mistakes from time to time, and I rely on Kevin to make mine for me.
About dirty pictures… I’ve worked at three different film processing companies.
At Walgreens, censorship was left to the operators. If I wanted to print pictures
of an orgy, that was my right. Employees in the lab would, however, call other
store employees over to gawk or laugh at people’s pictures. After Walgreens, I
was hired at a Ritz Camera lab. We would get nude pictures all the time, and we
treated them like any other pictures. Then I went to work for a photography studio
where everyone wore ties. It seemed very professional, but… nude pictures were
ARCHIVED by several of the employees, distributed to other stores, and put up
on people’s web pages. A PROFESSIONAL STUDIO!
As my story demonstrates, one can’t recommend a single kind of company
for confidential prints. If you want to make sure no one is stealing your pictures,
go to a lab where you can see the prints being made (to prevent them from making
duplicates), and ask ahead of time about censorship.
Good advice, RW. Of course, folks with digital cameras don’t have to worry about where their film is developed, and unless they e-mail them to someone untrustworthy, their pics won’t wind up on some pervert’s website. Go digital.
Your test of Wal-Mart photo developers doesn’t sound scientific. You took
pics of yourself kissing your boyfriend and your sister. Well, how are the film
developers supposed to know the woman you’re kissing is your sister? They can
see the homosexuality, but unless you’ve got a sign over her saying “MY SISTER”
they have no way of spotting the incest.
Got me there, Pierre. There are fatal flaws in our Wal-Mart test, which is
Kevin’s fault, of course. We were able to salvage our experiment, though. We
took some pictures of a dog kissing me (lots of tongue), and sent them to a
Wal-Mart in Maine. Soon we’ll know whether Wal-Mart is pro-bestiality.
Your advice to the woman who didn’t like the taste of come to “get used
to it and swallow” sucked. A far better response would have been to spit.
Come on, Agnew. The woman I advised to acquire a taste for come didn’t want
to swallow because she didn’t like the taste, making your advice at least as
unhelpful as mine. Your taste buds are on top of your tongue, toward the front
of your mouth. If you allow your partner to come in your mouth, then hold the
come in your mouth before spitting, where’s the come? It’s right on top of your
taste buds! Either you have to get used to the taste, or refrain from letting
people come in your mouth… unless…. if you can jam his cock down your throat
when he starts to come, the come will shoot straight into your stomach, and
your taste buds will be spared.
One day the world will discover that you make up your letters. Some of your
advice is enlightening, but you tell lies like the rest of the commercial world.
Why don’t you at least make an effort to do a legitimate column?
Why, Disappointed, would you waste time bearing false witness–accusing me
of making up my letters–when the truth is so much more damning? First, while
there are lies in my column, they’re generally not in the questions. They’re
in the answers. Second, I’m lazy. Writing the questions as well as the answers
would mean more work for me. Like all legitimate advice columnists, I write
half my column, and I let my readers write the other half–but I get all
the money. That’s the way it works in this part of the commercial world,
and that’s the way I like it.
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