🍗 Deathfat Fat Acceptance Movement / Fat Girlcows

[Falcon Sebben]

I don’t understand how she bathes or even walks. It makes me wonder how long regular activities take her to accomplish.

Her arms aren't long enough for her to wipe properly meaning she probably smells of unwashed ass and friction ulcers.

Babe. You weren’t supposed to sample the three course dinner gum. HE SAID IT WASNT READY.

I was going to add that she looked like Violet Beauregard in that picture but figured it was too easy.

 

[head lamb]

I recall that sometime last year, Jaimie moved to a new apartment and showed her bathroom, and the toilet definitely had a bidet attachment. Even with that, it seems to be a logistical nightmare. I honestly don't care to think about a gigafat's wiping situation, so I'm going to assume it's rag on a stick (or rag on a counter?), and even with that, she's likely going to have mudbutt and yeast.

Does anyone remember Delana's story from 600lb life (season 12, I think)? She scooted around in a skid-marked office chair. There is a clip at the beginning of the ep of her scooting to the bathroom, taking a shower, and then plopping back down on the same dookie-streaked towel.

Spoiler: Warning: Gross. Seriously.

But sure, let's make more accommodations for deathfats so they can bring their biohazard bodies out and about in public.

 

[Plantation Barbie]

Going down a bit of a rabbithole with Jaimie right now but there's a place on Reddit called "Jaime Weisberg Snark" where people make fun of her and I happened upon this:

https://www.reddit.com/r/Jaimieweisbergsnark/comments/1rwpxyn/complaining_about_brands_only_wanting_thin_people/

She's complaining about not being invited to premieres in Europe because they don't want fat people. And she literally says at the end, "Japan would be a great place to live".

Now I want her to go to Japan and her be utterly humiliated by how she'd be treated there. The Japanese would pull no punches.

I think it would go something like this:

 

[RainbowStarlight]

I recall that sometime last year, Jaimie moved to a new apartment and showed her bathroom, and the toilet definitely had a bidet attachment. Even with that, it seems to be a logistical nightmare. I honestly don't care to think about a gigafat's wiping situation, so I'm going to assume it's rag on a stick (or rag on a counter?), and even with that, she's likely going to have mudbutt and yeast.

Does anyone remember Delana's story from 600lb life (season 12, I think)? She scooted around in a skid-marked office chair. There is a clip at the beginning of the ep of her scooting to the bathroom, taking a shower, and then plopping back down on the same dookie-streaked towel.

Spoiler: Warning: Gross. Seriously.

View attachment 8882757

But sure, let's make more accommodations for deathfats so they can bring their biohazard bodies out and about in public.

It's funny because I was wondering why your warning was so insistent and thought huh it's just a big blurred butt AND THEN I SAW IT

 

[Heinrich Maneuver]

She's complaining about not being invited to premieres in Europe because they don't want fat people. And she literally says at the end, "Japan would be a great place to live".

Could she even get on a plane? Aisdle width aside, potential medical events from a 10+ hour flight aside, how much extra jetfuel would they need to account for the weight? Would they have to put her on a cargo ship and ferry her across?

And... why is she always standing like that with one leg out? Is it to distribute her weight or does she think it's "cute"?

The way she taps the ground when her foot moves makes me think it's a balance thing. Shes so wide she needs a wider foot stance to not wobble over. Also idk if it's medically possible but all that thigh fat must be pushing her hips apart; she can't stand with her legs together because the legs cannot touch due to fat, or her fat has blown out her joints, hence, the tippy toe stance.

 

[The Jewel of the Nile]

The way she taps the ground when her foot moves makes me think it's a balance thing. Shes so wide she needs a wider foot stance to not wobble over.

And something that I haven't even considered before, but she's like a horse and can't see the ground immediately before/under her. That tapping serves the same function that a blind person's cane does- checking for obstacles, unevenness, stones, etc

 

[Heinrich Maneuver]

And something that I haven't even considered before, but she's like a horse and can't see the ground immediately before/under her. That tapping serves the same function that a blind person's cane does- checking for obstacles, unevenness, stones, etc

She looks like when you are setting up for a barbell squat but your feet just don't feel right so you shuffle and wiggle them about as much as you can with an extra 150kg on your shoulders. Not that she's ever attempted to squat plates, or can squat, at all.

 

[head lamb]

Could she even get on a plane? Aisdle width aside, potential medical events from a 10+ hour flight aside, how much extra jetfuel would they need to account for the weight? Would they have to put her on a cargo ship and ferry her across?

She's flown a few times in the past couple of years, from Ontario to Florida for family vacations. How many seatbelt extenders would it take?! She also went on a cruise last year, during which I believe she admitted she needed a scooter because "the boat rocked."

 

[JaneThough]

And something that I haven't even considered before, but she's like a horse and can't see the ground immediately before/under her. That tapping serves the same function that a blind person's cane does- checking for obstacles, unevenness, stones, etc

I didn’t think of this but you’re right. I dressed as Santa once for my nephews and nieces and my sister went crazy on the belly. It’s really disorienting when you can’t see your feet and are trying to walk, navigating steps and other things.

Probably why most Santas are sitting when you see them lol.

 

[DavidS877]

Could she even get on a plane? Aisdle width aside, potential medical events from a 10+ hour flight aside, how much extra jetfuel would they need to account for the weight? Would they have to put her on a cargo ship and ferry her across?

Nah, it's been done before.

 

[NoReturn]

Insightful and thought-provoking discussion on Kristin's podcast.

night school podcast · @nightschoolpod
Posted 1 week ago
10.42K followers
1.99K views
137 likes
2 comments
4 shares
night school podcast - original sound
A strategic pivot, if you will @jessexand @Kristin Chirico #datingmen #women #bisexual #lgbtq #dating

You can just choose to be bisexual, guys.
This is how you know these people aren't having sex. They're so toasted and neutered they're just looking for companionship and calling it a relationship.

night school podcast · @nightschoolpod
Posted 4 days ago
10.42K followers
1.19K views
90 likes
0 comments
2 shares
night school podcast - original sound - nightschoolpod
Art, the in between of human experience and the conciousness @jesse zand @Kristin Chirico #society #art #thepitt #artist #creator

night school podcast · @nightschoolpod
Posted 1 week ago
10.42K followers
200.43K views
9.39K likes
19 comments
34 shares
night school podcast - original sound
This was the moment that created the HIPAA act entirely.. NEW EPISODE OUT NOW!! @jesse zand @Kristin Chirico #interpretivedance #hippa #oncology #womanhealth #podcast

night school podcast · @nightschoolpod
Posted 2 days ago
10.42K followers
5K views
234 likes
5 comments
4 shares
night school podcast - original sound
Trauma bonding sisters @jesse zand @Kristin Chirico #ovariancyst #teenageyears #life #experiences #podcast

These two clearly see The Pitt as real life, I'm kind of stunned. Even them bringing up mass shootings seems to have been prompted by the show.

night school podcast · @nightschoolpod
Posted 1 week ago
10.42K followers
2.71K views
453 likes
3 comments
7 shares
night school podcast - original sound
We’re baaackkk and we are overflowing with tea from these past couple of weeks! catch back up on the latest EP, link in bio! @jessexand @Kristin Chirico #hannahmontana #bestofbothworlds #flirting #comedy #men

Divorce arc when?

 

[The Jewel of the Nile]

Insightful and thought-provoking discussion on Kristin's podcast.

I wanted to react with the haha- reaction but they're so painfully unfunny. And it's a podcast

 

[Falcon Sebben]

Insightful and thought-provoking discussion on Kristin's podcast.

She chooses to be bisexual because otherwise it limits the amount of people that would willingly have sex with her.

The woman is not pretty.

 

[NoReturn]

Look who's still around:

MMFR | Plus Size Fashion · @mightymurphinfash
Posted 5 days ago
67.8K followers
1.9K views
199 likes
9 comments
0 shares
MMFR | Plus Size Fashion - original sound
#plussize #plussizefashion #sizeinclusivefashion #sizeinclusive #fatbodiesaregoodbodies

MMFR | Plus Size Fashion · @mightymurphinfash
Posted 4 days ago
67.8K followers
653 views
33 likes
0 comments
1 shares
Manic Vibe - original sound
#onwardsandupwards #goodluckbabe #whatdoesntkilkyoumakeyoustronger #healing #healingtiktok

MMFR | Plus Size Fashion · @mightymurphinfash
Posted 23 hours ago
67.8K followers
1.26K views
123 likes
1 comments
3 shares
MMFR | Plus Size Fashion - original sound
@MMFR | Plus Size Fashion @MMFR | Plus Size Fashion #plussizefashion #plussize #sizeinclusivefashion #sizeinclusive #fatbodiesaregoodbodies

The woman is not pretty.

 

[Jacknife]

She chooses to be bisexual because otherwise it limits the amount of people that would willingly have sex with her.

The woman is not pretty.

She is conventionally attractive.
Also this is just ragebait/engagement farming

 

[Heinrich Maneuver]

Sophia Ortega opens up to The Cut about how she lost a friendship over wegovy. Archive link

Losing My Friend Over Wegovy​

She hid her semaglutide use, knowing that I would spiral. She was right; we haven’t spoken since.
​

I wasn’t supposed to be at my friend’s apartment that day, but she asked for a last-minute favor: Could I watch her unruly foster dog while she ran errands? Of course.

Her home felt like an extension of my own. We had recently lived together there (she let me move in after I lost my job and had to sublet my own place to make rent), my cat stayed over whenever I traveled, and she often referred to her office as my bedroom. So I didn’t think twice about opening her fridge.

When I saw the box of Wegovy, my first thought was: It’s for the dog. I slammed the fridge door shut as if I’d seen a ghost or a picture of my ex with someone prettier than me. I opened it again, leaning forward: wegovy™ (semaglutide) injection. All lowercase, as if to say, “i’m friendly and approachable!” Seeing a weight-loss drug in my dear friend’s fridge felt like being cheated on, a confounding betrayal.

I’m not oblivious; I know GLP-1s are everywhere. But as prevalent as semaglutides have become, I’ve been equally vigilant about avoiding them. I avert my eyes from Ro ads on the subway and fast-forward podcast promos. What scares me most about their accepted ubiquity is the underlying belief that we cannot be trusted with our own appetites. That our bodies — working tirelessly on our behalf — warrant control. I’m scared because I used to believe this, too.

I refuse the world of weight loss now because, for more than a decade, my life epitomized it. I was anorexic; I was bulimic; I was diet culture’s star student, and it led me to the brink of death. I thought I could condition myself to surpass food and growth, reaching “perfection” like it was a room I could lock myself in. Which is to say, my fantasy was a version of myself who was not alive.

From 9 to 22, my memories are not of lived experience but of frenzied secrets: shoplifting laxatives, casing medicine cabinets for amphetamines and diet pills, feigning ingestion by folding food into napkins to discard later from car windows. All that mattered was what I was or wasn’t eating. At night, starved, I would inhale anything I could find, pawing through kitchen trash for leftovers like a suburban racoon, only to purge it all before dawn.

So more than uncovering her secret, I had stumbled on a quarry of kryptonite.

I stood frozen in the kitchen. I looked at the dog, who was not on Wegovy. What now? I considered saying nothing, leaving with a tight-lipped smile. And then what? Ghosting her? Without thinking, I texted: “wegovy… You’re not in trouble but what is going on.” When I looked up from my phone, the dog was standing on the kitchen counter. Nothing was as it should’ve been.

“I can explain,” she announced when she got home. The two of us sat on opposite ends of the couch with our feet tucked beneath us. I tried to listen but it was hard to hear over the sound of the blood boiling in my head. “I can’t believe you found out,” she said, laughing a little. “You’re the one who really couldn’t find out.”

“I know.” I smiled because I didn’t know what else to do. “I’m the worst person for this.” We sat in silence for a moment, until I told her I loved her but I had to go.

I left in a daze of disbelief. On my walk home, I had a brief but violent fantasy about breaking and entering her doctor’s office.

Later that day, I remembered all the times in the past six months my friend had canceled on me — due to nausea, stomach pain, vomiting, all common side effects of Wegovy. I’d started teasing her every time she texted about it. “Your poor body!” I’d typed more than once.

When I entered eating-disorder recovery in my early 20s, I was face-to-face with a dead end and I felt trapped. My every day was an excruciating cycle of restricting, bingeing, and purging — all I knew of adulthood was treading water, exerting every drop of energy trying not to drown. Diet culture keeps you constantly planning for a future in which you repent your past; it’s an ingenious enterprise built for miserable longevity. It took 13 years and one great therapist for me to even consider that I was not broken for wanting to eat when I was hungry.

Since starting recovery, I’ve been rigorously mindful about the people with whom I surround myself. I quit a job that was great on paper because the entire staff did Whole30 together and, when my birthday rolled around, our manager opted for a communal snack of Halo Top ice cream and berries instead of the usual Magnolia cupcakes. My favorite ex-boyfriend used to do a sweep for bathroom scales whenever we spent the night somewhere new. As silly as it sounds, scales are my version of Chekhov’s gun: The mere sight of one portends a violent end. The longer I’m in a room with a scale, the higher the likelihood I will step on it to self-flagellate, ricocheting my nervous system backward in time to mandatory weigh-ins and the threat of being inserted with a feeding tube against my will. If he found any, he would hide them for the duration of our visit, poking his head out to report when it was “safe to enter.” Every time, it felt like a remarkably loving gesture.

On bad days, any jagged shard of diet culture glints with potential threat. My loved ones know this, which is why the Wegovy was kept secret from me.

In the weeks that followed, my own eating turned feral in a way it hadn’t for years. I stalked my kitchen like an animal: up late, eating compulsively, opening and closing cabinets as if they had wronged me. As far as my body knows, diet culture is its apex predator, so seeing a weight-loss drug activated a scarcity response.

A month after I opened her fridge, my friend hosted a book club for Miranda July’s novel All Fours. It was my favorite book of the year, about a woman rediscovering her body as a vessel for pleasure and choosing to indulge her appetites — no matter the mess. I’d dog-eared my copy and was giddy to discuss it with a group. But as the day approached, an unfamiliar anger engulfed me. The thought of discussing someone else’s unconditional indulgence, with the unspoken weight of an appetite suppressant in the room, made me want to pull my hair out at the root. I imagined myself attending and, in a fit of frustration, involuntarily blurting my friend’s secret aloud.

So I texted her, “I’m really sorry but I don’t think I can come today. I know this sucks but the wegovy of it all is just too triggering for me right now.”

“That makes me very sad but I do understand,” she replied.

Our friendship always felt fated. We met in an online class and got coffee after learning we lived in the same city, only to learn we lived on the same block. We were born the same year, two days apart. Even our height and shoe size were the same. We had multiple pairs of the same clogs, and when leaving each other’s apartments, one of us would invariably say, “Are these yours or mine?” “Who cares!” the other would shrug. At the end of the day, it’s her body and her choice, but it’s hard when she feels like an extension of myself.

A few weeks after book club, we wished each other happy birthday in lowercase. We haven’t spoken since.

From mutual friends, I’ve gleaned that we both feel similarly — something like, “It’s a gigantic bummer but I get it.” In many ways, I’m being a baby. But eating-disorder recovery is a process of relearning how to feed yourself — tuning back into the body’s most basic needs, which is the stuff of babies. If I could keep the friendship and compartmentalize the fact that she is orienting her life toward thinness, I would. But my brain doesn’t work like that. In the same way a recovering alcoholic is ineligible for a glass of wine to decompress before bed, I am ineligible for regulation regarding my body: no counting, weighing, or food rules. Left on autopilot, I fiend for control, veering toward the self-objectification that drained my life of delight for so long. The allure of looking “perfect” is a siren call that will always turn my head. I’d love to reach a point where the tune disinterests me. In the meantime, I do what I can to plug my ears.

I don’t fault my friend for any of this. Of course I don’t. We live in a world replete with signals that thin is good and fat is bad; if society — if your doctor — offers a silver bullet, why wouldn’t you take it? No one is immune, especially me.

I miss her. But of all my breakups, this has been the least painful — not because our love was platonic, but because it was an act of self-protection. My boundaries are unforgiving because they have to be.

Torturing myself for more than a decade radicalized me. I know what it feels like to live under a reign of restriction, and I know how it feels to choose allowance instead. Now, when my appetite crests, I feel grateful. What a treat, to look forward to eating. Hunger is the body’s announcement that it is alive and wants to stay that way.

 

[The Jewel of the Nile]

God, what a piss-fest. Seems like she didn't go through enough ED therapy if the knowledge of other people becoming (potentially) thinner than her is causing her to behave like that

 

[Rich Evans Simp]

What is the psychology of choosing glasses like this? Am I just old because I come from an era where you got one pair of glasses and that was it because they cost so much?

It’s hard to describe, but inexpensive “poor people” glasses have a certain look. The more eccentric and distinctive styles tend to be those on the higher end and not covered by whatever government aid may be available. It’s a class signaling thing as well as an NLOG (I’m qUiRkY) thing.

 

[Ass Dan]

Sophia Ortega opens up to The Cut about how she lost a friendship over wegovy.

Apologies for the horrifying rating, but this legitimately makes me sick. Imagine taking another person's - a close longtime friend's! - medical treatment so personally that you stop talking to them. Main character syndrome final boss.

 

[Falcon Sebben]

She is conventionally attractive.

I respectfully disagree kind Kiwi.

Also this is just ragebait/engagement farming

Maybe it is but I still find her weirdly fugly.

Sophia Ortega opens up to The Cut about how she lost a friendship over wegovy.

What a bitch. Being fat is her only identity. Lose that and she loses a sense of who she is.