Tag Archives: fat

The fat circle of friends………

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Don’t you hate those friends that want you fat? They love you being fat to make them feel better about themselves.

ENOUGH! ENOUGH NOW!

I will no longer be:

  •  the one that eats cake to make you feel less guilty about the second slice of cake you’re tucking into.
  • the friend with fat legs that makes you feel thinner
  • the one to moan to about breaking the diet

I will be:

  • watching what I eat
  • dress as if I’m all that and more…
  • unavailable for snacks and binges

Now, fk off and let me starve in peace…

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It truly means a lot to me…

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This diet lark is not for sissy’s. And I’m afraid that food snuck in when no-one is watching, Nigellas Lawson style, truly DOES catch up eventually.

Oh my goodness gracious, but I love snacking and eating and munching. Winter is truly a biaatch to me. I like her for her red wine and warm fires but truly she has a nasty streak when it comes to packing on the kilo’s on my tummy, thighs and triple chin.

I’d love to blame it on Maryna, who resides in the dark love cave, but I am doubtful. A Chocolate Log, a kitkat, Lindt ball or twenty has to go somewhere. Doesn’t it? Maryna serves a purpose of deflecting, um, um, the tadpoles but truly she can’t be all that fabulous if she can’t mult task by ridding said weight of said luscious body?

Oh well, have asked a friend to fax through a diet. She has lost 4.9kgs in the last few weeks. Well done my girl! That’s awesome. Truly, feel a little jealous now.

I have used the word truly 6-7 times in this post.

Because truly, I’m serious about this subject. It truly means a lot to me. Truly…

Other words for truly:

absolutely, accurately, actually, authentically, beyond doubt, beyond question, confirmedly, constantly, correctly, de facto, definitely, devotedly, exactly, factually, faithfully, firmly, genuinely, honestly, honorably, in actuality, in fact, in reality, in truth, legitimately, loyally, positively, precisely, reliably, righteously, rightly, sincerely, staunchly, steadily, surely, truthfully, unequivocally, veraciously, veritably, very, with all one’s heart, with devotion, without a doubt

Built like a Solid Brick Shithouse and other fat stories….

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Since this is called The Fat Diaries, I’d like to elaborate on a passionate subject of mine related to weight and body image.

The subject being: CONFIDENCE

I have this mantra I live by. Whatever you do, do it with confidence. Repeat after me, Whatever you do, do it with confidence.

To use a well-loved phrase of my Dad’s, even though I’m built like a Solid Brick Shit-House, I never let my weight hold me back from doing things.

You know the huge obese fat person swimming and frolicking merrily in the waves of a December afternoon in the sweltering Summer heat? That’s me. You know the fat fuck that laughs uproariously as she belts it down a slide at iShaka in Durban? That’s me.

You know the mom that swims with her kids in the pool while the other moms try to disguise their shock and horror on their loungers on the side of the pool? That’s me.

In my heart I’m thinnish. In my soul I’m nimble and sexy and capable. What must I do? So I do the things I want to do…with relish and aplomb.

So stuff  you, and the horse you rode in on, should you judge me!

No-ones perfect….

later bitches………

Those bloody pull-in panties…

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My mom calls them Pull-in panties. Also known in my circle as Bridget’s Jones’ knickers. You know the ones? The ones you buy from Edgars and the Woolworth. They come in  magnificent shades of white, beige or black. You get medium support or maxi support. I buy the maxi support. My mom actually asked me why I didn’t wear pull-in panties the other day. The cheek of it? I answered  back in a very clipped tone that I fucking was! (I think I might have skipped out the effing part).

My best form of torture is to wear the Pull-in cycling shorts. I’m not talking about the ones you buy from Verimark. Those are a breeze compared to the pugnacious pair I own. Mine are beige. Have the thickness and feel of flexible canvas. John has to leave the bedroom and may not observe the agonising procedure of me …..um…slipping them on. Ha ha…slipping is a joke, it’s more like me wrangling and trying to put a 5kg polony into a vienna sausage casing. It involves grimacing, squeezing, lots of talcum powder for easier lubrication and a few beads of perspiration on my forehead. And when I finally have them on…I snap the waistband in jubilation, wipe my brow and slowly run my hands over my smoother bum and thighs!

They definitely make a difference. One can’t breathe or eat in them or wear them when it’s too hot but they definitely… make a difference….