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“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT MY ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES??”
You spent years lying and avoiding getting in shape for your health. You said your health wasn't worth it and being a disgusting, diseased, painful blob was worth dying early. You lied to viewers, doctors, family, stuffed plate after plate of rubbish greasy sugar dopamine down your enormous maw, even while lying about your “health efforts.” You lied your fat arse off because your broken brain thinks that if you trick the audience, you trick your body as well. But you can’t lie to your body. You can either respect it, or cram it full of empty calorie offal all day long, letting barely-chewed food, that's been greased up for easy movement via gravy and other lubricants, stack up by the pound in your colon like rush hour traffic, to be turned into ten daily shits at your leisure, over and over and over, every single day, instead of actually living your life. You chose to dedicate hours of every day to simply sitting still and slowly turning five lbs of takeaway into five lbs of shit. That was your choice.
You made yourself ugly and repulsive on the outside, to match your selfish, ugly interior. Then you “dated” a man everyone said was vile for months and months, because he was the only option you could get after what you physically did to yourself. You ignored everyone pointing out his cheating, you ignored and banned people who tried to shake you out of it and you laughed in their faces and blocked them, like you were
winning something, instead of hurting yourself further.
Every choice we make in life has a consequence down the road. Big ones, small ones, they all add up. Chantal refuses to ever make the right choice, instead stuffing herself to the gills and trolling for creeps on Tinder with a dishonest “no-strings-attached DTF” profile that belies her committment-hungry obsessive mind. A mind that “JUST NEEDS TO GET INTO HIS HOUSE” after a single casual meetup. A mind that won’t be fixed by therapy, because she’s not going to therapy, which is also her choice.
For all the farmers who whinge that Chantal never gets her just desserts, never pays for her actions…scroll up and look at that fat stupid bitch. These were all her actions, and now they are all her consequences. She planted shit seeds and now cries that they grew into big fat festering shit trees, as if they could have possibly ever grown into anything else.
