- Joined
- Aug 4, 2019
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A lot of it has to do with social media. Back in the day, a deathfat stood out in their community. They couldn't relate to average sized people, they had a single voice, so what what was there too be proud about? Now, they can reach out globally and find each other and start forming their own communities. They can relate to each other, share similar experiences, and now they are validated and in their minds it's normalized. Next thing you know, there's a movement. Whenever a super morbidly obese person posts on IG, there are hundreds more super morbidly obese that respond with "You go, girl!' To make matters worse, people who have struggled with dieting now reject the "diet culture" and embrace becoming superfats themselves.I've seen multiple videos of "size-positive" people, which I guess is code for people who're proud of being fat, showing their candy drawers at home or work, and they're always something ridiculous in the style of 10 lb of sweets etc. Some of those cows point out that the stash is "only for emergencies", but their close proximity always to the area the cow in question spends most of her time in, makes it rather obvious that they're having a lot of continuous emergencies and I bet that the stash is refilled on a weekly, if not daily, basis. In contrast, when I stock up for "emergencies" I put things high up in a place I rarely visit so that the emergency preparedness material doesn't interfere with my daily life.
I've been planning to introduce her to the entire deathfat forum once I gather enough information of her. But in brief, her name is Esther Filderman and she currently lives in Ann Arbor, Michigan, but she's from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania where she's been trying to move back to for years. Her most frequent alter egos are "Mizmoose" and "Moose Finkelstein". She uses the former on Reddit and Twitter, and the latter on LinkedIn. She also has another reddit account. I now know that she was born in 1964 to a Jewish family, both parents deceased, she has no spouse/children, she's 5"4' tall and weighs 250 lb - 300 lb (BMI: 43 - 52), her clothing size is 3XL - 4XL, she's disabled due to her arm and leg, and is suffering from diabetes (both T1 and T2) and anemia on top of her morbid obesity. I haven't released my full writeup of her yet, because I can't find her Instagram account. It is NOT any of the aliases above. I've been unable to find it despite googling like mad. I know it exist, because she has referred to it by basically calling people names elsewhere on social media who dare to follow her on Instagram and who're not obese.who's the cow in your picture?
The idea of eating junk food as a way to cope with "emergencies" is why people get obese in the first place. Normal type 1 diabetics will drink a glass of juice or glucose syrup if they get hypoglycemic, not snack on candy all fucking day.I've seen multiple videos of "size-positive" people, which I guess is code for people who're proud of being fat, showing their candy drawers at home or work, and they're always something ridiculous in the style of 10 lb of sweets etc. Some of those cows point out that the stash is "only for emergencies", but their close proximity always to the area the cow in question spends most of her time in, makes it rather obvious that they're having a lot of continuous emergencies and I bet that the stash is refilled on a weekly, if not daily, basis. In contrast, when I stock up for "emergencies" I put things high up in a place I rarely visit so that the emergency preparedness material doesn't interfere with my daily life.
I was also in the military in a European country, probably a different one. Was this for your basic training? In my country during your application you have to have the full medical exam and if your BMI says overweight you're not passed fit to begin basic until your BMI is healthy. There are some exceptions, as the fatties like to remind us "BMI IS NOT AN ACCURATE MEASURE OF HEALTH!!!". Which is true to a degree, having a lot of muscle makes you heavier and in those cases the doctor will measure your waist, chest and stomach and make a determination as to whether the extra weight is from muscle or fat. You have to strip for your exam so it's usually pretty obvious if it's fat or muscle. So it seems strange because it's pretty much impossible for you to start basic here if you're overweight.It was in Europe. Can't tell you more than that or the country would become obvious. I no-longer live in Europe - moved to North America a long time ago.
Yes, she is a true success story. She doesn't post much on Insta but she seems to be doing well with maintaining her weight loss. Her story was one of the best because she seemed to be very real and truthful and was dedicated to realizing her goals.Amber was one of the best stories. I felt so heartbroken for her when her dad had to wheel her through the airport on that big luggage thing and people were taking videos and stuff. She was too young to feel like that
It was the one with the ahegao shirts. He had like a rotating pair of them, one a hoodie and the other was a jacket.Loli shirts? Like those ones that were popular for a bit mostly as a meme? Like the tights Lori Cerda wears? Was it an ahegao shirt? The stinky folds with french fries reminds me of those reddit threads about horrifying fat people like the one who was left in her own shit for months. I'm sure that woman needed intensive skincare beyond what an assistant could even do. She needed to be washed and creamed with every antimicrobial in the book.
It was the one with the ahegao shirts. He had like a rotating pair of them, one a hoodie and the other was a jacket.
I'm now down memory lane, back to my old CNA days. I've worked in the worst state nursing homes in the boondocks you can imagine, for example I was threatened by a baby man wearing a diaper while in my car while waiting for my paycheck before I maced him through the crack in my window.
I'll talk about Judith. Judith's legs worked at some point, but no longer did they work. This death fat was one of the smaller land whales, maybe only 450-500, but it was all wrapped around her middle and face. Similar to a little nightmare ghoul, fat arms, jiggling jowls, a well kept grey Karen haircut and a massive middle. It was damn freaky to pull the blankets off her and see these little stick legs.
Judith was a cunt. She was one of those people who I think has kids to abuse them. Her daughter did the bare minimum, and I'm going to say guilt made her deal with her at all because when her daughter Pam had a breakdown, she confessed things that her mother had done to her - mentally, physical and emotionally abusive.
This massive land whale was mentally there, she was just mean. Scream at CNAs, call Pam and scream and berate her for anything like her food being cold, not having pudding, a wrinkle in her bedsheet. I had nightmares about her shrieking about her bedsheets having wrinkles. I saw Pam flinch when Judith just made the motion to back hand her, and to this day, I hope she's miserable but I think she died. Probably alone.
She sat for months, never getting up. Over time, she stewed and became meaner and meaner. Judith developed a bedsore before I got there due to her refusal to move, and it was the size of a dime. Not deep. Apparently due to her immobility before I came there at another nursing home, the bedsore was big as a small saucer plate, and one could shove a fist into the mass cavern and move it freely. Flex it in a circle.
She would call the nursing home and complain, and as a big, "fuck you" the nursing home collaborated with the rehab center they had attached, and they made her get up. I've never heard such screaming and whining, and they did it out of spite for making their lives miserable. If you're gonna bitch about getting bed sores, then you're going to get up and move to prevent them.
She was a abusive heifer, and I never faulted Pam for putting her in a nursing home. Complained how terrible it was, and in the end, it was karma that took away her way to physically beat her daughter.
Dude, this reminds me of one of the stories I didn't even think to share.I'm now down memory lane, back to my old CNA days. I've worked in the worst state nursing homes in the boondocks you can imagine, for example I was threatened by a baby man wearing a diaper while in my car while waiting for my paycheck before I maced him through the crack in my window.
It was the one with the ahegao shirts. He had like a rotating pair of them, one a hoodie and the other was a jacket.
I'm now down memory lane, back to my old CNA days. I've worked in the worst state nursing homes in the boondocks you can imagine, for example I was threatened by a baby man wearing a diaper while in my car while waiting for my paycheck before I maced him through the crack in my window.
I'll talk about Judith. Judith's legs worked at some point, but no longer did they work. This death fat was one of the smaller land whales, maybe only 450-500, but it was all wrapped around her middle and face. Similar to a little nightmare ghoul, fat arms, jiggling jowls, a well kept grey Karen haircut and a massive middle. It was damn freaky to pull the blankets off her and see these little stick legs.
Judith was a cunt. She was one of those people who I think has kids to abuse them. Her daughter did the bare minimum, and I'm going to say guilt made her deal with her at all because when her daughter Pam had a breakdown, she confessed things that her mother had done to her - mentally, physical and emotionally abusive.
This massive land whale was mentally there, she was just mean. Scream at CNAs, call Pam and scream and berate her for anything like her food being cold, not having pudding, a wrinkle in her bedsheet. I had nightmares about her shrieking about her bedsheets having wrinkles. I saw Pam flinch when Judith just made the motion to back hand her, and to this day, I hope she's miserable but I think she died. Probably alone.
She sat for months, never getting up. Over time, she stewed and became meaner and meaner. Judith developed a bedsore before I got there due to her refusal to move, and it was the size of a dime. Not deep. Apparently due to her immobility before I came there at another nursing home, the bedsore was big as a small saucer plate, and one could shove a fist into the mass cavern and move it freely. Flex it in a circle.
She would call the nursing home and complain, and as a big, "fuck you" the nursing home collaborated with the rehab center they had attached, and they made her get up. I've never heard such screaming and whining, and they did it out of spite for making their lives miserable. If you're gonna bitch about getting bed sores, then you're going to get up and move to prevent them.
She was a abusive heifer, and I never faulted Pam for putting her in a nursing home. Complained how terrible it was, and in the end, it was karma that took away her way to physically beat her daughter.