[quote]xandrewx wrote:
I thought fat people were supposed to be jolly? One would imagine that a hefty individual might make an attempt to overcome their physical shortcomings by exercising a more cheerful personality. Not these trifling hoes…
Out at a local club last night with a couple of dudes, watchin’ the Ravens lose. Not lookin’ for anything but an Orange Crush and a jerked -chicken quesadilla. As the night rolls on, the DJ, in typical fashion, begins to ramp up the energy in the room. The ladies start dancing, the fellas start watching. My buddies and I are enjoying our pub grub. Things are good.
A herd of linebackers migrates to the dance floor, not far from where my crew was stationed at the bar. They’re drunk, and they are ready to grind. There’s the cute (but fat) one, the tall one, the thick one (looked like she preferred the vag), the shy (but fat) one and the one we nicknamed “Goliath”. Goliath looks like she ran security for the rest of them… bout 6’5", 300+ lbs.
The Ravens lose and the next game comes on. No one in my group cares for either of the teams now playing, so we turn our attention to the dance floor to scope out the talent. Being the nice guy that I am, I strike up a friendly chat with the “shy” one. She’s cool, easy enough to talk to. She wants to be a cop, and I can relate to that. We talk for a good ten minutes or so before I notice the “cute” one has maneuvered herself into a tactical grinding position against my left leg.
Now, I’m not much of a dancer, but I don’t have the heart to say no to a women who has concluded that, after scanning the room (I picture the Terminator scanning his surroundings, data popping up on the screen and whatnot), my sweet ass is the one for her. So I go with it. Fuck it.
It’s quickly apparent that this bitch is the drunkest of her posse. Her dance moves tease of the possibility of a rouge titty popping out, but it never happens, which is ok, because remember, she’s fat. She’s stumbling and mumbling and it looks like she’s not making it out of the club with her dinner still inside of her belly. My buddies see what’s going on and I can hear the fat jokes in their heads as they laugh and point.
My buddy walks up and hands me a cranberry and vodka. “Thanks brotha!” I take one sip before the sloppy drunk pile snatches it out of my hand (spilling a good portion of it) and within seconds the whole thing is gone. Oh well, at least I didn’t pay for that drink, but this trifling hoe is getting to be obnoxious. I’m thinking that it’s getting late, so the lights should be coming on any moment now.
WHAM! Drunky takes a mid-dance nap and hits the ground hard. I try to catch her arm before she makes contact, but the cellulite makes for a terrible handgrip, not that I could support her mass anyway, so she’s down and dirty and the nasty bar floor. Her friend, the thick one, moves in to run a recovery mission, but she’s not man enough to move her fat ass, so she calls for reinforcements. you can finish this story at alpha’s blog …5100block dot com[/quote]
you’re not going to get much of a rise with this story from these stuffy old people in this thread. Theyre all “sensitive” and shit. lol
I know what you mean though…fuckin drunk ugos/fatties getting drunk and thinking theyre cute…FUCK!!!
