"I really can't tell you how good it looks...", she says, a vast array of Indian food spread before her.
No, you sure can't. Not even one word in that English Honours major peabrain to serve as a description. At least she can say "creamy" when describing food.
When even your make believe becomes too much effort.
"I almost want to take my wig off so I don't get any Indian food inside of it"
A rational fear. There is an epidemic raging of people getting Indian food
in their fucking wigs.
Timber!
That bald spot is really coming in nicely. Looks like a logging road in an overcut forest. Nice move tossing the thing on the floor.
I note that food for six is no longer enough. You could feed a busload of starving Calcuttans with all that grub. Notice that enormous spread of food in front of her? That's only
some of it; she couldn't even fit it all into the shot.
Big Beautiful Meeeee
This is why they call her a beauty. Wheeze, wheeze.
"I don't know what these sauces are..." How many times have we heard this admission of ignorance? How hard is it to freakin'
find out what you are about to put in your massive stomach? Laziest, most content-empty "foodie" on the internets.
For a drink she has a cranberry-raspberry-sparkling
water, she says, emphasizing the last word. No liquid calories for
this influencer legend.
She stuffs almost the whole piece of naan along with a softball-sized blob of green glop on top into her fat yob all at once.
Duh, I dunno what this is but it's pickled!
"Oh, this is
pickled!", she says, shoveling what to her is an unknown substance into her gaping mouth and then almost vomiting on the spot. "Whooh! Oh, that's hot", she says, partially chagrinned but also while digging into the biryani. It does take her awhile to recover from the "very, very salty, spicy,
weird taste" That's the type of food criticism we tune in for! She soothes her offended taste buds with what she calls "the yogurt stuff" "Very cooling", she says reassuringly. "The biryani is good" she tells us, nodding to herself, despite the fact that she couldn't have
tasted any of it with her salty/spicy crisis moment and the cooling yogurt.
"Got some cilantro..." she tells us, which coincidentally is the only herb used in any dish she eats, apparently. She has taken on the Amberlynn affect of nodding after every bite and saying "oh yeah" or some other affirmation. She paws through the chicken next. "This is an orange" she informs us. She claws through the chicken and eats it with bare, greasy fingers. She remembers to say a rushed and desultory "beauty bite" after about the fifth bite.
She starts to lick her fingers, but a dim bulb lights in her head and she remembers they delivered napkins too. She reaches for the napkin, hesitates, and then licks her fingers anyway, unable to help herself.
Seven minutes in, she addresses the sex doll hullabaloo. She intentionally drags it out, by taking bites of food, fake-shhh ticcing, moaning in ecstasy.... "You probably wondered if I were serious", she says in the fake monotone voice she uses whenever she's about to demonstrate her superiority. A whole minute of eating goes by again without her broaching the topic a second time. "Probably the best Indian food I've had in awhile" she says, somewhat unconvincingly, taking gigantic bites from a samosa, spilling food on her clothes and on the floor, as she makes goo goo eyes in slightly stilted rapture. Something seems off here...
"Okay" she announces with her trademark wave of her paw, and then drags things out
another 40 seconds, eating, drinking, gesturing wildly, exhaling obnoxiously.
"Ya know I've been on Tinder", she says with a "you know the whole routine there" type of gesture with her fat mitt. "And I've already deleted my profile" Honestly, some of us could have guessed that. A dummy for going in, and a dummy for going out; that's how she rolls. "I got really discouraged. And scared. Hmmm!!" The frenzy of eating continues through this disjointed soliloquy.
Lol, and the reason she quit? She's afraid of romance scams. lololol. Clotso is probably the only woman in North America who willfully goes onto tinder
seeking out Nigerians, Ghanans, and Senegalese. Even chicks who are into Africans with mind, body, and soul aren't
that dumb. She then thinks she is a prime target for scamming because she heard that they target vulnerable women; specifically older women and
overweight women. lolol, here's the Chantal I missed, irate and pissed off over something completely trivial and avoidable, presenting her own stupidity to the audience as hard-earned experience. "'Cause they think we're desperate", she laughs, seemingly detached from the reality that she was desperately turning to Tinder for a new African.
"Never send anyone money" the sage advises us. "I'm not...uh, wouldn't...uh do that", she says, sounding as if that is
exactly what she did and
exactly why she is so pissed. Her face turns red as she assures us she has not sent money. Nevertheless, she doesn't miss a beat with death defying bites...
Too smart to be scammed.
She is surprised that she got likes from scammer types. This seems like news to her, but it has been the case for dating sites for decades now; a user wanting to meet a real person uses common sense and filters through the fakes, which is a lot easier to do if you avoid looking for partners in freakin'
Nigeria. She describes the most obvious type of scammer that a child would detect, and says "it raised some red flags"
It all boils down to "I don't think I really trust anybody online". As slow as a tortoise on a hot summer day, she realizes the same thing she has said for four years in varying ways. If anybody has been waiting for the Great Foodie Beauty Catharsis in this shaggy pig story, you have a very, very long wait in store.
She couldn't deal with conversation with anybody because "I just wasn't into it", which has always been her go-to explanation for ducking out of
anything that has the potential to change her life. Some African scammers really dodged a
bullet cannonball charging rhino they would never have seen coming.
Munch, munch, munch, crunch, slurp, eyeroll, munch
CRUNCH
"Some of the profiles..." she says, shaking her head, struggling with a napkin as if she had never handled one in her entire life.
She then spergs on and on about the "anthem" feature in which people choose their theme songs and is disgusted by picks like "I'm Too Sexy"
Clotso informs us that she can't fall in love with a guy who likes Ariana Grande. The sound you just heard was Ariana Grande fans emitting a simultaneous sigh of relief. Obviously, Clotso has
much cooler taste in music, like Styx and Don Henley.
Too Cool for Ariana Grande fans, and she knows napkin origami.
"So I was just getting really fed up, and discouraged", she says, returning to to same exact point she was
five fucking minutes ago. More sperging on losers on Tinder, while she licks her fingers and eats glop with a serving spoon. "I was craving something with...like, flavor. D'you know what I mean?"
She saw a guy from Senegal that reminded her so much of Bibi, but "he started getting weird right away" Clotso is no fool. She is "very leery about that stuff...you know?" Meanwhile she spent time conversing with an obvious scammer.
Eleven fucking minutes after she brought up the sex doll, she finally returns to the topic, mentioning the body builder who married a sex doll. "We're all wondering, what the heck, y'know?" she says, including all of us in her thoughts.
So, her curiosity was piqued. And so she looked up sex dolls. "Some of them were pretty cute", she admits. "They looked uncanny", she says, putting her Honours English to good use again.
She was dismissive at first, but then she considered the benefits.
Considering the benefits
She likes that it comes in different sizes, "appendages" she adds by way of explanation. Even ten inches. She then claims every guy she was ever with lied to her and told her he had ten inches, which I take as more proof that she has never "been" with anybody.
She says it would be really interesting to "spice up that part of my life". She can be the only girl in his life, and he can't fart. She's ready for up to four rounds at a time. Nobody will complain she is crushing him (yes, she said that). "So really..." she says, stuffing her face. "I'm not trolling" (thanks for reading my post, ya big lug) "I am considering...shopping around, saving money, and buying a lifelike doll" (Which means, forget the sex doll, it will never happen. Pics or GTFO)
The price makes her hesitate though. She tells us her mangy cat stole one of the balls off her joylessly unfestive plastic desktop tree the other day.
"Of course, when I
do get one, it will be in videos with me", she says with a paw gesture that suggests it is the most natural thing in the world but also looking furtively up from her plate. "I'm feeling anti-social", she says cheerfully.
That's about it for this episode, the long wind-down isn't especially interesting or enlightening.
This whole things feels like bogus, invented intrigue to me, intended to drum up views. Even if she is serious, she'll never save the money for it or go through the trouble of getting one; I think she'll latch on to a Nigerian scammer before we see any sex doll.
