Off-Topic Deathfat Encounters IRL - This thread is not your personal army.

Can you whip out MS paint and give us a recreation from the front? It would probably be funnier and perhaps a little more respectful (I say on le evil kiwifarms)

Also are you not in the US lol? I feel like I see people too fat for the furniture every time I leave the house... and you went to a buffet, who do you think goes to buffets lol?

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Once, as a child, I was at a park for an event and sat on an old metal+wood bench, and the entire bottom collapsed out. There was a giant fat lady, maybe 300lbs and rather short, standing in front of me. And she yelled, "Thank GOD it was you, because if it were me, I'd NEVER hear the end of it!"
I was pretty confused at first and thought she was saying if an adult broke the bench they'd make them pay for it. Only later did I realize she meant that everyone would assume it broke because she was so fat.
 
Last week I went to my favourite uncle’s funeral. Sadly a Christmas death. The chapel was kind of weird in that it had three seating sections and only one entrance, that didn’t line up. I took my seat and not only did my very distressed cousins start crying, the photo montage did me in. That not only included my recently deceased mother, it also included photos of me (the flower girl at his wedding). I needed to go back to the entrance to the chapel and grab a packet of tissues. There was a fat fuck in a mobility scooter blocking the aisle. She was stopped so I walked past her, grabbed the tissues for both myself and my siblings, then started to head back to my seat. Her mobility scooter was still stopped in the same spot, so I crossed in front of her, there was no room to cross behind, and the fat fuck decided to suddenly move forward. I had sprained my knee a few days earlier, but was managing, until she wiped me out with her scooter. I hit the floor and fortunately just said SHIT as I went down, rather than FUCK! While she did apologise, I still felt like I was the arsehole for the expletive rather than her for being a fat arse that needed a mobility scooter to get around.
 
I remember years ago encountering a death fat on a mobility scooter while jogging. If I had a way to describe her, think mobility Mary but Pakistani and with an accent. She even would frequently say “exccccuuuuse me” like Mobility Mary.

Mentally, I referred to her as “shawarma lady” because I saw her with three of them. She smelled strongly of tahini and garlic, with a hint of BO.

I haven’t seen her in over ten years so I have no idea what happened to her.
 
I'll have to take your word for it because yeah, that picture is nowhere near as horrifyingly fat as what I wanted to see and laugh at. Very disappointed, do a better job of spying on random men at restaurants next time.
That's just a typical fat dude in the US and probably wouldn't even register as unusual if I saw him in public. I was looking forward to a real horror show.
 
Go to a casino. You’ll see whole herds of 400 and 500+ lb deathfats plopped in front of the slot machines, entertained for hours by inane animations, and throwing their money away for a jackpot that statistically will never come. A statement about America if I ever saw one.
Us east Asians are also a society of heavy gambling addicts, partially because we take luck very seriously; almost as important as having strong moral character.

Addictions tend to be comorbid as well. Someone who is addicted to gambling, alcohol or drugs probably has such poor impulse control they develop a food addiction as well and vice versa. It pisses me off when deathfats try to argue that food addiction doesn't exist because the body doesn't go through physical withdrawal and you can't live without food.
 
This happened a long time ago but the experience still bubbles up to the surface of my memory every so often.

A long time ago I once stayed up all night and found myself at a subway at around 7am to obtain what may be considered food by some. The employee was helping another customer while I stood patiently in line for my turn. I look over towards the entrance and realize a fatty fat bitchtits had materialized into the store.

He was at least 6ft and his physical form resembled a muffin or cupcake atop two tree trunks for legs. He was quite spherical. His form was clad in grey sweatpants with the elastic around the ankles, a grey sweatshirt, and white dad sneakers. a large band of flesh around his middle was exposed to the elements as both his shirt and bottoms were too small to fit him properly. His head was as spherical as his torso and his hair was short, red, and curly. It resembled a rug covering the top of his lumpy head. What stood out the most about him was that he had either too many chromosomes or not enough. I'm not sure which it was, but he was pretty retarded.

He seemed confused to where he was and how he got there. The employee, other customer, and myself were frozen in place by his sudden appearance and watched quietly as he waddled deeper into the store. He wobbled forward towards the counter where what looked to be all of the cups in the store were stacked. The cups created a wall between the soda fountain and the register.

He stared at us, moving his gaze from person to person, while his face became as red as his hair and blotches of purple surfacing. A loud tard screech then erupted fatly out of his potato face. You know how you can often hear the fat in a person's voice? Imagine that fatness added to a tard screech and you will have the unsettling noise he bellowed at us. While singing the song of his people he also knocked over all of those stacked cups in a fit of tard rage. The cups went everywhere.

I took that as a sign to leave. Seven in the morning was far too early for that level of retarded. I left the store without food, got into my car, and drive straight home. I never went back to that subway.
 
This was a long time ago. When I was a teenager, I rode a Meals on Wheels route. If you're not familiar with the service: you deliver hot lunches to seniors who are very, very poor and who are not able to get enough food on their own. You load up the hot meals in your car and drive a route, delivering the food to everyone who's on your route and checking in on the people you deliver to. You're supposed to do what's basically an unofficial wellness check, but you don't actually eat with the people (since you're delivering a bunch of meals).

I was on a VERY rural route, and pretty much everyone on my route was living in impoverished and deeply depressing conditions of rural poverty. One of the people I delivered to was the sweetest elderly man. He lived in a dilapidated trailer in an isolated area. He was thin and weathered, not a speck of fat anywhere on his frail body (and he needed more fat). He lived with his twin brother, who was, at that time, the fattest person I'd ever seen. The brother was grotesque. He never wore a shirt, ever, and was always in the same pair of tight-fitting pants. He always looked sweaty and greasy (the trailer had no air conditioning, and I delivered in the summers, when school was out). He smelled. He looked hairless. I read Blood Meridian for the first time a few years after all of this, and I picture Judge Holden as looking like this man. He was just this grotesque lump of flesh that never got out of the chair.

And. He was foul in other ways. He'd say crude and sexually suggestive stuff to me, every time I was there. The poor brother would try to cover for him, talk over his nasty brother, but the brother was what I'd now call verbally abusive to the nice brother. The thin brother was a kind soul and polite to a fault, and his twin obviously embarrassed him. I'd then get embarrassed because the brother I liked was embarrassed, and I never said anything to the program coordinators about how awful the fat brother was. I felt so sorry for the thin brother, and I didn't want him to get struck off the delivery list because of his brother's actions. I was also too young to know that maybe I should've said something. It wasn't like the fat brother was going to attack me-- after all, he was only barely able to walk, and I was an athlete and a teenager.

I moved away, but I later heard from someone who still drove routes in that area that the brothers had moved to better housing (which wasn't saying much; this was a roof over their heads and literally nothing more). Why? Because the fat brother had fallen through the rotten floor of the trailer, and it finally put them on the radar of some service that had the power to improve their housing. The fat brother didn't even die (to be fair, I'm not sure if "fell through" actually mean fell completely through or just a foot through, something like that).

I wish I could convey how creepy the fat brother was. The Judge Holden thing isn't just about how he looked. I would really not be surprised if he had a record for sex crimes, because I don't think the way he spoke evolved in a vacuum. I'm also not sure why he didn't receive meals like his brother, since they were living in identical circumstances.

Also, I always suspected he ate his brother's meal, and so did everyone else who was familiar with that route.
 
Back in the late ‘70’s before the age of superfats, I worked in a large store that pretended to be a health food place but in reality was a huge foodie place with a lot of pretend ’healthy choices. (Carob with sugar is not a healthy substitute for chocolate with sugar); A very large woman lumbered in and I was pretty shocked at her size, she had to lift the hip overhang to squeeze through the turnstile.
I happily waited on her because we had to write down the license check on the back of any checks written and I was dying to see what she weighed and too naïve to believe that someone would lie on a license. The stated weight was 175 which was at least half of real weight and I was so rattled, I wrote that down on her check rather than than her license expiration date.
 
At one point in my life I found myself at an amusement park. It was an older park that contained a lot of greenery. It had many little trails through the forested areas. I enjoyed that it was not as rides focused as other parks out there. I was walking in one of the less populated areas when I spotted the fattest woman I have ever witnessed.

She was quite tall and having a physique similar to Anna O'Brien. The difference between her and Anna, aside from melanin levels, was that this fatty fat fat's thighs and lower torso were comically out of proportion with the rest of her body. The majority of it in her ass, thighs and calves. All of which looked to have the texture of cottage cheese. Her back end was as wide as the back seat of the average sedan. She was huge. This specimen would easily be "O lawd she a comin'" on the cat fatness chart. She looked to be around 5'11 and atleast 500lbs. She was dressed in a baby blue top and bottoms made of a stretchy fabric and her hooves were shoved into white tennis shoes.

She was by herself and attempting to walk up a slight incline.. and struggling as she did so. I watched with mild curiosity wondering that if she fell backwards if it would end up as a scenario similar to Indiana Jones with the boulder and such. The way she moved was also peculiar - due to mobility issues from the bulk she carried, she had swing one leg out without bending her knee in a circular motion to propel herself forward. Each step looked to require utmost concentration which was etched upon her face.

The asshole in me debating shouting "Bet you regret those Twinkies now, fatty!" but I decided against. She made her own hell and constructed her own flesh prison one chicken tendie at a time.
 
I know a 450 pound man that can do the splits at 43 he was an artistic type closet gay fat. Nice guy!
This is actually a fat thing. Being so obese prevents their joints from fitting into their hip sockets correctly. It’s not uncommon to see patients on My 600 Lb Life sitting with their legs splayed improbably for the same reason.
 
This is actually a fat thing. Being so obese prevents their joints from fitting into their hip sockets correctly. It’s not uncommon to see patients on My 600 Lb Life sitting with their legs splayed improbably for the same reason.
no, a lot of fats just LOOK like they're sat in ways that make no sense because what you're seeing is all the fat and not their bones, the fat spills way wider in a way that tricks our eyes
same with fats doing splits, but they don't actually manage to get their ass all the way to the ground in a flat angle, their knees are bent and their hips are off the floor but the fat pools down and creates a straight line that makes us think it's a full split

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My side job has let me see another deathfat fairly often.
Dude is barely 5'5" at least 350. Claims to have masters in Nutrition and Sports Medicine. But also claimed he lost 50lbs in 2 weeks when each time I see him he is noticeably bigger.
For example he always buys a shirt at these gigs. Last year in November a 3xl was snug on him but at least covered his ever expanding gut. Now it stops above his belly button and he has to pull his gym shorts up like he is 80 years old to cover his gut.

Add in the guy is either oblivious to everything or an Andy Kaufman level comedian.

Last few events he has been bringing a IPad and tripod and filming. One event we didnt have a stationary camera , the one that was hired didnt show up. So someone thought to put Fat Fuck on that.

He went way up in the bleachers set up his camera aimed it at the stage turned in on. Then laid on the bleachers sleeping and farting. Only getting up to go get food.

And he looks and sounds a pile like now dead wrestling manager Paul Bearer. Well if Paul Bearer had a kid with Francis from Pee Wee's big adventure.

Him being so oblivious has led to a pile of jokes about him that get told in front of him and he doesn't get.

For example one dude nicknamed him Dicky Doo,cause his gunt stick out further than his Dicky Doo.

Calls him this to his face and Fat Fuck legit has no clue it is an insult.
 
Once upon a time one of Jupiter's lesser moons checked into a hotel I worked at. He was there to bump uglies with a sweaty fat woman and had reserved a jacuzzi room to perform the deed in. I checked them in, gave them their keys, and waited for the noise complaints to begin.

About thirty minutes after they checked in, the moon waddled up to my desk with a look of rage carved into his gelatinous face. He told me that someone shat in his toilet. Though the complaint sounded more like "SUMWUN SHAT IH MAH TROIRWT". He then insisted on trying to show me a picture of it. I did not realize I was a turd detective who can look at a picture of shit and divine whose ass it dropped from. I am not that and I did not want to see that picture. I told him viewing that picture was not necessary. I also knew it he was he who pooped. Not through divination or dookie CSI but because he was so insistent on sharing the photographic evidence to make me believe him. That action made the lie too detailed to be believed. Also, who the fuck does that?

He demanded his room be free of charge. I told him I could not do that, but I could move them to a new room and discount them. I did not apologize for any inconvenience because he was a stupid fucker. I instructed him to pack up their belongings and to return to the desk for their new room assignment.

I then booked any remaining rooms that were the same or greater levels of nice under a fake name so they could not be seen by third booking or corporate booking. Fatty McFat and Mrs. Fat then returned to the desk expecting to float like hippos in a jacuzzi tub all night. The fat retard stood there smiling at his own "cleverness" as they waddled back into the lobby.

I told them unfortunately we do not have any other jacuzzi rooms or suites available as it was a busy night. I collected their old keys before sharing that the best room I had was one with two queens beds. I knew there was no way they both would fit comfortably on one queen bed and smiled as I offered the new room keys. After learning this news the doo doo room became suddenly acceptable. Preferable even. They could just flush it and move on with their night like nothing happened. I told him that after something as heinous as that had happened, there was no way that I in good conscious could let them use such a defiled room. I think the lady realized that I wasn't buying his bullshit because she stood there and glared at him as though wanting him to burst into flames right there infront of us. I continued to talk about how disgusting that was, how I had left a strongly worded message for housekeeping, etc.

He realized he would then either have to admit to being the mystery pooper or accept defeat in the form of no pussy that night. He made his choice. Refusing to admit it was he who had pooped and shamefully took the keys to the standard room. Head hanging low as he shuffled fatly to his new room.. His bride continuing to glare as she quietly followed him. The discount I gave him was charging full price (rack rate) for a standard room.

Reflecting back on that evening, I should have called a sister hotel and got them in on the shenanigans. I should have walked those lards to a different hotel only for them to receive a standard room. The same outcome with driving an additional distance. Missed opportunities, I suppose.
 
One time I was at Family Dollar and I glimpsed this gargantuan black woman in the aisle. It was summertime, so she was wearing basically nothing. She had a spaghetti string tank top that dug agonizingly into her shoulders, her cetacean backfat flopping over the straining back. Ludicrously tiny red hotpants. Even her flipflops were ill-fitting. She was also wearing one of those black lady shower hats, those puffy fake silk things. I stared at her, because even though I live in a fat as fuck city and I'm used to seeing total monsters I can't help myself. Obesity is fascinating. At some point the body doesn't know where to put all that fat, so it freaks out and starts packing on in highly individualized places, like the Slaton sisters' foreheads and Anna O'Brien's legs. This woman, her arms were the fattest thing about her. I think a regular-sized person could have slipped into her arm fat like a sleeping bag and fit more than comfortably.

Anyway I went about my business and I foolishly went back up the aisle I'd seen her in to get to the front and pay. Well, there was a turd on the floor. Huge fat person shit. They shit insanely, all of them. Obviously it was hers.

Another time, when I worked in a pizza shop at a liquor store, I served this really fucking fat black girl and to help her out I gave her the smallest piece of pizza. We argued. I wouldn't give her a bigger piece of pizza out of pettiness. She freaked the fuck out on me and told me she was going to find me and beat my ass, lol. A few days later she came in looking very sheepish and apologized to me and we made up. Heartwarming.
 
One time I was at Family Dollar and I glimpsed this gargantuan black woman in the aisle. It was summertime, so she was wearing basically nothing. She had a spaghetti string tank top that dug agonizingly into her shoulders, her cetacean backfat flopping over the straining back. Ludicrously tiny red hotpants. Even her flipflops were ill-fitting. She was also wearing one of those black lady shower hats, those puffy fake silk things. I stared at her, because even though I live in a fat as fuck city and I'm used to seeing total monsters I can't help myself. Obesity is fascinating. At some point the body doesn't know where to put all that fat, so it freaks out and starts packing on in highly individualized places, like the Slaton sisters' foreheads and Anna O'Brien's legs. This woman, her arms were the fattest thing about her. I think a regular-sized person could have slipped into her arm fat like a sleeping bag and fit more than comfortably.

Anyway I went about my business and I foolishly went back up the aisle I'd seen her in to get to the front and pay. Well, there was a turd on the floor. Huge fat person shit. They shit insanely, all of them. Obviously it was hers.

Another time, when I worked in a pizza shop at a liquor store, I served this really fucking fat black girl and to help her out I gave her the smallest piece of pizza. We argued. I wouldn't give her a bigger piece of pizza out of pettiness. She freaked the fuck out on me and told me she was going to find me and beat my ass, lol. A few days later she came in looking very sheepish and apologized to me and we made up. Heartwarming.
I have my own big black lady story. So I got a flight awhile back and it had one of those boarding systems where it has more than one group and numbers, so you might have groups A, B, and C with numbers 1-15, for example, but the seating itself is open, if that makes sense. Like, you go on, and plop down wherever the seat is open. First come, first serve for the seat itself. I'm flying by myself and I don't like flying, especially coach, but I'm C07. Anyway, there's like eight people packed in the C06 to C10 area, and I just don't care that much so I stand at the end, but there's this lady and this kid that's maybe 8, and a cluster of three heavyset black people in the 300s. Now, they have these overflowing bags of airport snacks. Like, those paper bags you get at Footlocker, but overflowing with Costco snacks. They have Costco Peanut M&Ms, chips, pretzel chips. cookies, jerky, those things with icing with the pandas on them, the big Oreo thing. I know. I looked. I thought it was the most interesting thing about them.

And the lady asks my number, and I tell her, and she and her kid are C05 and C06. So she taps Big Black Grandma on the shoulder and says, "I think someone in line is in the wrong place."

MISTAKE!

Modern Day Rosa Parks says she's not moving. Now, it is a full flight, and I get the worry the mom not be next to her kid. The lady is exasperated, but defeated, and I feel a little bad. I say, "Excuse me, young lady," in my most charming voice, "I think this other lady wants to sit next to her kid."

Fat Black Grandma is not drawn in by my rizz. She tells me it ain't her problem. Fine. I can play this version of the game. I point out she's C14.

She fires back an epic, "I bet it would make your day to send an old black woman to the back of the line."

I'm pretty done with this, so I just say, "Yes, it would make my day."

She shuffles behind me, but the lady and kid were standing behind me at this point, so she's ahead of them. "Go ahead," she says. I sense she is not enthusiastic, but she knows she is wrong.

"They were ahead of me," I tell her. They walk ahead. Rather than EVERYONE CLAPPING as I was expecting and hoping, everyone is silent and still lets this old witch cut some of the line. She smacks me with her snack bag boarding flanking hard on my left.

In a brave act of defiance, I smash into the chip bag a little. Warning shot fired. She backs off and pesters me no more. To further avoid me/exercise, she calls for a wheelchair to get off the plane later.

Edit: Retarded and can't write or read.
 
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For example one dude nicknamed him Dicky Doo,cause his gunt stick out further than his Dicky Doo.

Calls him this to his face and Fat Fuck legit has no clue it is an insult.
Now Dicky Doo is offering diet and workout advice to randos on social media. Seems someone heard what his supposed masters are in and is seeing if he knows his stuff.
Might see him this weekend,not sure right yet. If I do will try to get a picture.
 
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