Chantal Sarault / Foodie Beauty – 400-lb chronically lying and delusional drug fiend mukbanger and livestreamer from Canada trying to be a cosmopolitan online influencer, greatest lolcow outside of prison, undisputed Queen of Deathfats, Cluster Beezin’, Nader Elshamy’s sugar mama and footstool, ALPHA GUNT (now shaved bald)!
Our Foodie Beauty.
First and foremost, I would like to thank
@Strine for eloquently authoring the
foundational OP and updating it to cover up to August 2020. As for my work, I am composing this to bridge the gap between August 2020 and now. I wish to summarize the events of the past fourteen months in the most concise and entertaining manner possible, while staying true to what happened and covering the major eras. The past fourteen months can be split into multiple overlapping sagas, each marked by a progressively deteriorating mental state, an obsession with livestreaming, and Chantal’s incessant need to catalog every feeling, event, and relationship in her life: the Frank-initiated Tinder saga, the “Dom” saga, the “recovering addict” saga, the “domestic violence survivor” saga, and the current “boyfriend” saga. Additionally, each saga is accompanied by a fixation on a particular food item, usually fast-food and terrible.
The singular axiom that binds all discussion of Chantal is “Chantal lies,” please keep this in mind while you learn about recent events. We are not certain
why Chantal lies but we are certain
that Chantal lies, whether in part or in full. Some of the events she claims to have happened to her may have very well occurred, but expect a spin, a twist, an exaggeration, an embellishment, a half-truth, in all she claims. Given her well-documented erratic behavior patterns, and while she is remarkably and profoundly dumb, Chantal will always find a way to paint herself as the most virtuous and innocent person in any situation and by virtue of her room-temperature IQ, things always end badly and in the most spectacular of fashions. One user has joked in the past that if one were to list all of Chantal’s qualities and characteristics and posed them to an editor of a major publishing company, your idea would be immediately panned because the editor would claim your proposed character would be too stupid to be true: but your character is the one and only Guntal Marie, the greatest lolcow outside of prison.
Frank: Harbinger of Ruin, Awakener of Sex Kittens
Much like uploading the first mukbang onto her channel marked the beginning of the end for Chantal’s time in polite society, meeting Frank, a wholesome-looking fan, marked the beginning of the end of Chantal’s already tenuous grasp on reality and corroded her last shred of sanity. A testament to Chantal’s psychological pathology, her first taste of male attention in many years primed Chantal’s plunge into degeneracy and self-destruction at an inconceivable depth and rate. Several months prior to meeting Frank on her 37th birthday, Chantal, as a cow, was stagnant: functioning in a perfectly formulaic fashion, oscillating between fad diets, and promoting “Healthy at Any Size, Body Positivity” (HAES/BoPo) pseudoscientific dogma while ignoring her morbid obesity, progressively failing, and extraordinarily enlarged liver, and rampant, uncontrolled diabetes as evidenced by her declining visual acuity and probable diabetic dermopathy.
Chantal’s rotting leg as of early 2021, probable diabetic dermopathy.
Toward the beginning of 2021, however, Chantal’s behavior patterns changed significantly. The tone of her videos and occasional livestreams took an increasingly sexual turn, with at one point, Chantal mused about purchasing a male sex doll to sleep with and ordering a male escort for her birthday in addition to a short stint as an OnlyFans model. This tension continued building until it reached a tipping point on March 28th, Chantal’s 37th birthday. “Let’s Be Frank…,” the beginning of a series of livestreams in which Chantal awkwardly meets up with Frank in a deserted parking lot over bubble tea, represents one of the most significant moments in Chantal’s life.
Meeting Frank accelerated Chantal’s downward spiral. The small dose of male attention Frank provided tore the last remaining thread of fabric holding up Chantal’s mask of sanity. Frank will never understand what he has unleashed upon this world; and for that, Chantal-watchers are forever grateful.
While Chantal was browsing Tinder for weeks before meeting Frank, her search for a male attention source hastened in response to huffing Frank’s intoxicating cologne. These escapades continued for weeks, with each subsequent livestream being punctuated by stories of men, usually obscenely rich, muscular, and/or well-endowed, each being of a distinct ethnicity, fawning over her and begging her to give them a chance. Atop all this, Chantal began fantasizing about travelling to several European countries to explore the rich culture, history, attractions, and most importantly, the men contained within. Labelled “Eurobeeze,” this delusion perfectly encapsulates Chantal’s markedly abnormal thinking processes and obscene levels of delusion that envelop her every thought. It also contributes to the notion of Chantal desperately holding onto the façade of cosmopolitan online influencer coupled to the delusion that she is a virtuous, intellectual, cultured, and well-read woman.
Suddenly, one of these mystery online men materialized into a genuine form, a form named Nick. The narrative of Nick burned bright and quick. From my best recollection, the pair met in Chantal’s parked car outside of his apartment for fifteen minutes, where they fiercely and passionately exchanged kisses and gropes; with at one point, Nick fondled Chantal’s gunt. While the meeting ended as quickly as it began, it ended with promises of a future bona fide date, complete with dinner and romance, to make up for their impromptu meetup. The meeting never came. Every time the date would approach their scheduled meeting, Nick would become busy with work, fall ill, or ghost Chantal. Predictably, in response to the prospect of being denied male attention, Chantal unravels and engages in full bunny-boiler mode while habitually consuming Dairy Queen’s “Twisty Misty” slush and continuously blocking and unblocking Nick from messaging her. In return, Nick did the same. To this day, whenever Chantal is in a perceived state of “single” because of a fight, Nick will suddenly and miraculously message Chantal to ask how she is doing.
The Tinder saga marks Chantal’s permanent transition to livestreaming thereby enabling viewers to be spectator to Chantal’s unfiltered insanity, bitterness, and abhorrent cuntiness. For many months, Chantal’s last recorded “effort” video was her March 25th, 2021 “Twin Peaks” time warp video. In terms of entertainment value, pre-recorded videos pale in comparison to the unfettered greatness of livestreams: if you are going to watch a demented guntdemon kill herself with stimulants and sugar, you may as well watch it unfiltered and
live. Chantal’s livestreams have attracted a cult following, consisting of several members of the Beauty Parlor chatroom, with Chantal being nicknamed “Gunt” (a portmanteau of the words “gut” and “cunt” to describe the manner in which her gut hangs over her cunt and the fact that Chantal is a ginormous cunt) “The Gunt,” “Gunty,” or “Guntal,” to name a few, named after her disproportionally massively bulbous stomach that complements her apple-shaped figure in the most horrific, Lovecraftian way, who wait with bated breath for “the Gunt” to go live. One of the greatest attractions the Kiwi Farms has to offer is the ability to participate in Beauty Parlor chat while Chantal is livestreaming.
Big ups
@Mr Foster for his hilarious guntstalking
Meeting “Dom”: Breaking Fat
To compensate for the sudden void in male attention, Chantal continues her search. Thankfully for her, in Chantal’s eyes, she struck gold: a multitalented, ethnic man born in Egypt is interested in meeting and “partying” with her! For several days after matching with him on Plenty of Fish, during her lengthy livestreams, Chantal would brag about this man and his immeasurable talent. Taken in full, Chantal has claimed this mystery man to be a professional soccer player, a magician, a professional chef, a tradesman, a massage therapist, and an engineer that has travelled to dozens of countries, among numerous other embellished claims. As a product of Chantal’s attachment issues spurred on by her Cluster B pathology, Chantal was launched into mania and fell head-over-heels-in-love with this mystery man. Stemming from the same possessive problem that causes her attachment issues, Chantal’s incessant need to nickname every person in her life plays a significant role in the Egyptian man saga. By virtue of his aggressive and domineering sexual tendencies Chantal was first exposed to on April 21st, Chantal assigned this mystery man the nickname “Dom.” Fortunately for Chantal-watchers, rough sex and knocker-knocking were not the only things to be had that night. In addition to her profusely bruised breasts, Chantal exhibited the jittery behavior characteristic of heavy cocaine users. Slowly but surely, Chantal admitted to occasionally indulging in nose sugar with the Egyptian man. Moreover, during this period, Chantal started consuming weed edibles at abnormal and breakneck speeds. To put her abuse into perspective, edibles are often recommended to terminal cancer patients in severe pain. A terminal cancer patient, depending on their tolerance and pain level, may consume anywhere from 2.5 to upwards of 20 mg to blunt their excruciating pain. On average, Chantal consumes anywhere from 250 mg to 500+ mg of edibles
daily, as an avoidance mechanism to try to forget her regrettable existence.
Atop the dabbling in nose sugar and ungodly edible consumption, Cartel Marie expanded her horizons further. After disappearing for three days with no sign of activity, a disheveled Chantal returns to update her doting fans on her whereabouts. Little did we know, this three-day hiatus was actually a three-day drug binge that would put Ozzy Osbourne to shame. In one fateful May 1st, 2021 livestream titled “
Quick Hi,” Chantal complained of excreting orange urine, feeling like she was dying, not eating for three days, chest tightness, shortness of breath, and dry heaving. Spread out over three days, Chantal consumed multiple hard drugs. It began with the usual heavy edible use with intermittent cocaine use and then degenerated into parachuting (wrapping the dose in tissue paper and swallowing the package whole) a near-full gram of ecstasy in one sitting. In a haze, Chantal spots a discarded, dirty pipe containing an unknown “burnt plastic” smelling substance resting on the coffee table. In doing what any normal person would do upon finding a used pipe on a junkie’s coffee table, Chantal proceeded to pick up this pipe, bring it to her lips, light it, and deeply inhale. Shortly after, our porcine princess learned the mystery substance was none other than
meth. Expectedly, Guntal felt horrible following her consumption of methamphetamine, cocaine, and ecstasy, but at the same time, she “did not understand that she could overdose.”
Moving on and acting like nothing happened, Chantal barely lasted a week before making another major blunder. While livestreaming, her Egyptian man called and she sloppily obscured her phone screen from the camera’s view, allowing the audience to see the caller ID: the contact’s name was “Nader.”
The first domino to fall in unmasking Egypt.
Fearful that she may have helped in doxing her drug dealer, 402-IQ Chantal does the next logical thing and
draws a picture of Nader. Based off an uncommon ethnic name and a surprisingly accurate description of the man’s face, sleuthing Kiwis discovered a probable lead: in Chantal’s area, a man named Nader Elshamy was found matching the description of the Middle Eastern man with plump lips and a large nose that Chantal sketched earlier.
Despite her laughable ineptitude and incompetence in all areas of life, the one-time Chantal does something well, it comes back and bites her.
The Facebook profile in question. Note the prestigious and illustrious career of Chef at Chef Cook!
The first ever sighting of Nader in the flesh.
“PUPIL CHECK!”: Chantal pretends to be a “recovering” stimulant “addict”
To the surprise of no one, Chantal spontaneously broke down during one June 28th, 2021,
livestream in which she admits to being “addicted” to cocaine and being unable to recreationally use the stimulant. Due to the overwhelmingly positive and supportive response to Chantal’s admission of keeping an 8 ball in her drawer, she promised to take her “addiction” seriously and seek psychological help to recover from her substance abuse. In subsequent livestreams, Chantal would continue visibly using cocaine by virtue of her exhibiting all the tell-tale signs of someone using stimulants. This pattern of behavior persisted until the early morning of July 8th, when an alleged near overdose occurred which Chantal dubs “that really bad night.” For reasons not fully fleshed out, Chantal is leading us to believe it was from an overdose, the Chunky Junkie was rushed to the hospital and referred to addiction recovery counsellors and services.
The quintessential, manipulative Chantal hospital selfie.
After her brief time at the hospital, Chantal’s uncle, presumably a recovered addict, took her under his wing for a few days, offering her to spend time at his home to hold her accountable and ensure her “withdrawal” and “recovery” period goes as smoothly as possible. This arrangement was cut short due to Fatblow Escobar “missing her cats” and not because her junkie boyfriend needs more money to restock his charcuterie board with various stimulants. In continuing the “addiction” theme, during this era, Chantal became enamored with Burger King’s Nashville Chicken Sandwich (which Chantal childishly dubs “nashies”) to a ravenous and near-sexual extent: likely to mask her fiending for stimulants and rough junkie sex for something marginally more socially acceptable in the form of a shit-tier fast-food sandwich. The cringeworthy virtue signaling and innumerable pity posts across social media regarding substance abuse and “addiction shaming” skyrocketed tremendously in this era: for the uninitiated, Chantal uses the word “shaming” in response to people criticizing her poor choices, Chantal will often do something she knows to be self-destructive in defiance, much like a child would sloppily wash their hands, in defiance, when told by an adult to wash their hands before dinner. Evidently, one of Chantal’s greatest and most alluring traits is her defiance. Chantal is defiant in that she will always make the worst possible decision, 100% of the time, even in cases where she fully understands the overwhelming cons in making a given decision beforehand (with less foresight than an
actual petulant child). Because perceived authority figures, in her channel members (dubbed “Very Important Beezers (VIBs),” a collection of tatertards consisting of equal parts histrionic wine moms, Facebook boomers, and trolls), tell her to do something, usually something adaptive and beneficial, Chantal will do the stark opposite in a bull-headed manner.
Love at first bite.
Moreover, during this period, Chantal exhibited rapid and extreme weight loss, precipitously losing around 60 pounds in a few short months. Chantal-watchers have chalked up her weight loss almost entirely to her overconsumption of hard drugs and progressively failing organs, as no significant attempts in diet or exercise were made at this time, save for the meth and cocaine binges and aggressive starfish sex she laughably purports to engage in dozens of times nightly. During her now-deleted rant announcing her hospital stay for sympathy points, the beast was more offended by the notion of people postulating that her weight loss was entirely by virtue of her drug use and not the fact that she was ridiculed as a drug fiend sleeping with a junkie who can chew cabbage through a chain-link fence. Ironically, the most significant and sustainable weight loss ever recorded in the history of Chantal’s life occurred during a period of smoking meth. Additionally, Chantal is the only person in recorded history to eat through potent amphetamines
twice: Chantal beat the meth diet.
To date, Chantal has provably and observably continued using cocaine, among other suspected simulants, despite Chantal’s best efforts to vociferously assert that July 8th was the last day in which she consumed any drug besides weed edibles. This is evidenced by several tell-tale signs. Chantal has caught onto one of the signs, but by virtue of her abysmal intelligence and theory of mind, she is not that slick. Periodically, when suspected of abusing cocaine, Chantal will perform “pupil checks” during which she shows off her non-dilated pupils. However, in more recent livestreams, Chantal hoped to circumvent this by pre-emptively performing a “pupil check” before the effects of her stimulant of choice kicks in. Immediately after, and without fail, you can bear witness to Chantal’s pupils dilating and expanding in real time. Furthermore, Chantal exhibits more signs of stimulant abuse. Among women, the spontaneous and frantic application of makeup at all hours of the day is one sign by which an observer can detect cocaine abuse. One can tune into almost any late-night livestream and find Chantal frenetically applying eyeshadow, lipstick, and blusher. Cocaine also dysregulates a body’s mucus secretion which manifests in incessant nose blowing and sniffling. Coincidentally, you can see this when Chantal drills into her nostrils using her Kleenex-laden trotters several times throughout a livestream. Periods in which Chantal acts frenzied and hyperactive, always lasting 30 minutes, coincidentally the exact pharmacokinetic half-life of cocaine, are observable in several livestreams followed by a visible crash in energy level necessitating an additional bump.
Big ups
@Randy Lahey for making the domino meme and capturing the saucer pupils.
Remember, Chantal lies.
Battered Housegunt: Recovering from Broomstick-based Violence and “That One Night”
A dark undercurrent grumbled and churned beneath the depths of Chantal’s psyche for many months, manifesting in the occasional reference to and utterance of “one really bad night with Nader.” Not to be confused with the early morning of July 8th where Chantal allegedly almost overdosed on cocaine, this night allegedly consisted of a nasty fight that ended in Nader beating her. This was what was implied for months until Shannon, a similarly white-trash high-school friend with a gaunt face resembling Marilyn Manson, but addicted to ketamine, spilled the beans on what allegedly happened. In one August 6th, 2021 livestream, titled “Clean Stream,” after publicly outing Shannon’s personal experiences with domestic violence to an audience of thousands without her permission, Shannon, in retaliation, outed what happened to Chantal:
or at least what Chantal confessed to her.
The great “betrayal.”
In the most confusing of fashions, Chantal immediately suppressed this claim while simultaneously admitting it to be true and angry that Shannon would leak such intimate information told in confidence. To this day, Chantal holds a visceral grudge against Shannon, with Shannon pledging allegiance to Chantal’s detractors. In another instance, on August 14th, 2021, livestream titled “It’s Done,” Chantal laments over her relationship with Nader, lovingly labelled as "Crack the Ripper" by her detractors, among other monikers, and how she wishes everything would just work out and how she wishes he wasn’t “abusive and broke.”
For a solid month after this, Chantal would oscillate between claiming Nader is “abusive in every way” and “just a flawed man working on himself whom I love dearly and am willing to see things through with” while shoveling lokma, Turkish donut holes, into her maw while strung out on Atomic Wheelchair edibles. Suddenly, after nearly six weeks of being encouraged into telling “her truth,” in one late night livestream on September 27th, 2021, titled “THE STORY,” Chantal unveiled her side of the story and claiming multiple damning things transpired that night and across their “relationship”.
Disclaimer: the timeline is incredibly unclear; we are unaware of which nights which events allegedly took place. According to Chantal, after a night of heavy cocaine use and gambling, Nader struck her multiple times and stole her phone. In the same livestream, she accuses Nader of the following: filming a sex tape without her knowing, punching her during rough, non-consensual sex, flicking cigarette ash at her, spitting on her, yelling at her while she was driving causing her to distractedly rear-end another car, threatening to kill her, “hurt” her elderly cat, BBJ/Casey (this is a non-exhaustive list). That afternoon, during a series of cooking livestreams, and Chantal acting suspiciously as if she was expecting a visit from someone, the police enter her home and question her about the domestic violence claims she made the previous night. Chantal abruptly ended the livestream, again, in the most suspicious of fashions, informing her audience that she needs to fill out some reports regarding the claims she made the night before while smirking. During this time, we also learned that Nader went to prison for stabbing two people and is on probation and taking anger management classes.
Alleged cheek bruises.
Several users,
I included, commented on how dubious and unnatural that whole affair was, especially considering the timing and Chantal’s comments from just short days before, seemingly ominously foreshadowing the “surprise” police visit. During this era, Nader started his own YouTube channel, primarily focused on cooking videos where he would showcase his personal favorite Egyptian/Middle Eastern dishes. The reception of Nader’s blossoming YouTube channel was considerably greater and more positive than that of Chantal’s current channel environment. In his videos, he portrayed himself as light-hearted, comedic, knowledgeable, and not like the monster Chantal has painted him out to be for the past several months. Thereafter, the narrative shifted against Chantal and toward Nader with many being suspicious of Chantal lying about the alleged abuse. A few days before the police visit, Chantal, rightfully feeling like she was living in a hell of her own making, in a livestream called “I’m Gonna Lose It,” complains how Nader’s channel was overall well-received and able to be monetized and how there was an increasing sentiment among the audience that suspects Chantal was lying about, or at least embellishing the so-called abuse story. These intense sentiments of bitterness and jealousy Chantal harbored against Nader may have prompted her to “admit” to the events of that one “terrible night” that affected her so profoundly, five months after the fact. A healthy dose of skepticism is required when analyzing anything Chantal claims: you must consider the timing as well as the motivation behind Chantal’s claims in determining whether she is telling the truth. Remember, in true Guntal fashion, she will do anything, up to and including harming others and attempting to destroy their lives, to avoid admitting that she did something wrong or acted inappropriately. To end this section on a lighter note, Chantal once jokingly stated that it did not matter if Nader shoved broomsticks into her ass, Shannon still betrayed her trust and was a terrible friend. Broomstick ass theory is now considered canon among Guntologists.
Chantal claimed Nader hurt her elderly cat, but every time she told the story, it changed.
90-Pound Fiancé: Fatal Attraction
Chantal’s current relationship with Nader, and by relationship, I mean Chantal financially supporting every aspect of Nader’s life while he smacks her buffalo hump and publicly humiliates her, can be best analogized with an episode of 90-Day Fiancé where a fat and desperate white woman has a transparently one-sided relationship with a Middle Eastern man.
Nader is Chantal’s boyfriend, but Chantal is most definitely not Nader’s girlfriend: Chantal is just his most lucrative and bountiful slampig whom he can tolerate in small doses in exchange for paying his cost of living. Chantal is but one of many women that Nader can call whenever he needs his kebab waxed. From the beginning of their relationship, Chantal and Nader shared a volatile dynamic characterized by Chantal’s
bunny-boiling episodes and a rapid breakup-rekindle cycle. During a breakup period, while Chantal is at home seething and begging her audience for sympathy, Nader is out banging through his contact list and pretending Chantal does not exist so long as his rent is paid. Perhaps one of the most noteworthy episodes consisted of Chantal calling Nader over 30 times, sending countless messages berating him, and driving to his house and “trying his door” all because he did not check his messages while he was out with friends.
Feeling the slightest bit of shame, or at least feigning so, Chantal promised to make an apology video directed at Nader, her audience, and the many bunnies she boiled to apologize for her shameful display that night. Expectedly, several months later, no such video has ever been published. More recently, Chantal abandoned Nader at a pharmacy while he was picking up gonorrhea medication to treat the green discharge leaking from his genitals, as angrily described by Chantal. In a rage, Chantal drove off with the phone she gifted Nader after having a fight concerning Guntal wanting to go home for her therapy session. After complaining of symptoms characteristic of a
Neisseria gonorrhoeae infection for many months, Chantal gets an STD panel and tests positive for gonorrhea: a disease that Chantal took several weeks to understand is transmitted sexually. Chantal’s love for the baba ghanoush and male attention that Nader provides is so boundless she forgets her boyfriend makes fun of her gunt and gave her gonorrhea.
The Chad himself.
As hinted at before, Chantal pays for every expense in Nader’s life, totaling several thousand dollars, whether it be drugs, food, or rent, without hesitation or question. A testament to Chantal’s degradation fetish and/or her extreme desperation and willingness to overlook any disrespect, Nader once demanded that she crawl to him naked, gunt dragging across the floor like a slug, to kiss his feet. In one cooking livestream at Nader’s, the lack of chemistry and sheer awkwardness between the “couple” was palpable with Nader being visibly repulsed at the prospect of kissing the shitdemon (did I mention Chantal shits several dozen times a day, with the majority of these bowel movements not occurring into a toilet?). Shortly after this awkward stream, on October 24th, a woman named Brenda Mae Anderson uploaded a YouTube video wherein she accuses Nader Elshamy of rape. To this date, Brenda has not produced any evidence that would indicate Nader raped her, but we do know that the two met in a hotel room. Both characters are incredibly dishonest and unworthy of anyone’s trust, with Brenda’s daughter at one point, owning a YouTube and TikTok channel dedicated to detailing all her childhood abuse and neglect at the hands of her narcissistic junkie mother and Nader being a convicted felon proven to have stabbed multiple people in addition to having an ex-girlfriend die due to mysterious circumstances. Perhaps we will never know what transpired in that hotel room, but only time will tell. In the most convenient of timings, directly after a rape allegation, Chantal brings her boy toy on an all-expenses paid trip to a 4-star hotel in Toronto to sit in a bathtub, fully clothed, while scrolling through UberEats while her boyfriend bangs all his Toronto fangirls. On the day of writing this, Chantal admitted to planning to move-in with Nader, with marriage on the horizon, and shipping off her decaying soycorpse of a troon butler to a different province. This can only end well.
Nader trying his hardest to avoid eye contact whilst trying to breathe using only his mouth.
Nader is offended that his woman sharted inside and not in the designated outside sharting area like a dog.
Miscellaneous & Hilarious Guntmedia
Guntflops
Liquid Sharts
Coked-Out Mania
Vanity
Following the Chantal thread, and keeping up with her histrionics, especially in recent months, has proven to be a herculean and daunting task that has alienated many forum users not knowing where to start and how to catch up. It is my sincere hope that my work here has helped you and serves as a re-invitation to post in the Chantal thread.
To those reading from Reddit,
I hope your family dies in an automobile wreck. Chantal is forever and you are immeasurably rətarded for thinking otherwise in trying to have her deplatformed. You and your subhuman tranny kind deserve nothing but endless ridicule, mockery, and humiliation for as long as you think this way. Chantal is going nowhere and you will not ruin the fun. Now put me in your folder of Kiwis that have said meanie pee pee poo poo words about you and your pedo-defending website. You will never be a woman.
This private information is unavailable to guests due to policies enforced by third-parties.
