Christmastime in the Emerald City

{October 4, 2007}   50 lbs overweight: unhealthy. 50 lbs underweight: dead.


Guess what? Technically speaking, I’m about 10 to 20 pounds overweight. Shocking, I know, considering my fucking hate-on for fat people. But what I hate about fat people is not necessarily their looks so much as their fucking loser attitudes and general fucking laziness ranging from “oh, I’m going to eat cottage cheese and melba toast for a week and it’ll fix my life” to “I’m fat and sassy, so I’m going to wear Baby Phat clothing and big fucking obnoxious earrings and you can all just squish over in your subway seats.”

Fuck you.

I have a problem with obesity because you are killing yourself with fucking cheeseburgers. Cigarettes are at least chemically addictive, and even then I’ve got to consider myself a monkey for lighting up once in a while. Heroin addicts, we already know I’ve got a soft spot for them. I have a serious problem, however, with death by fucking cheeseburger. One, it’s ridiculous, and two, you’re a moron for doing it to yourself.

Having said all that, however, I will continue with my original train of thought. My extra twenty pounds aren’t killing me. I’m not at risk for diabetes, skyrocketing cholesterol or anything of the sort. I don’t even really look overweight. It’s called dressing right, okay? Skinny jeans not so much.

I happen to have the fortunate genetics to distribute the majority of my adipose cells to my awesome set of tits and a not too shabby booty-and-hips combo to match. Okay, so I’m less than thrilled with my arms and I’ve never had abs in my life. But generally speaking, I’m quite the sexpot. And while it’s partially due to genetic good-luck, it’s mostly due to attitude. I’ve got tits, you’re going to like them, and if you don’t, then you may happily help yourself to the plethora of skinny trendy hipsters in my neighbourhood, lovingly termed the Annexorexics. (God, I love living in the Annex. So many mockery targets just floating by.)

This positive attitude, by the way, does not include obnoxious earrings. And if you ever buy me anything Baby Phat related, I will kill you, because you are clearly an alien.

So what I hate more than self-destructive fat bastards crying over their flame-broiled whoppers are skinny little fifteen year old girls who bitch about their waist line. This is not okay! Who is your mother!?!? Sure, being fat is unhealthy but 1) you’re not fat and 2) being emotionally self-destructive is just as unhealthy, and it takes far more work than dieting to fix the potential damage.

Actual conversation:

My mother: “Emerald, I think you’ve put on some weight. You need to be careful.”

Me (at fucking FIFTEEN!): “No, I haven’t. You have, you feel bad about it, and you’re projecting. Go eat some celery.”

I’m not sure how a fifteen year old manages to gain that kind of insight, but thank fucking hell. More fifteen year olds need to. There are too many people feeling shitty about how they look with no fucking need to. Too many people vomiting, too many people obsessing, too many people doing far too many stupid things other than just eating fairly healthily, getting their asses outside every so often, and only once in a while getting completely baked and going through two bags of Doritos.

Greater insight has been gained through the further fortune of being a makeup artist. I’m on the set, I’m under the lights, I’m painting, I’m preening, I’m poufing the hair. Trust me, they look like shit without me. I have drawn on cleavage, and I have created abs where there were none. So maybe I’m lucky enough to be in the industry that bombards people with images of how they are supposed to look, and know that it’s bullshit. The definition of fantastic is chowing down on catering and laughing at some ridiculous model trying to suck in an ass muscle that doesn’t exist. Fan-freaking-tastic.

So, insecure fifteen year olds, and the populace in general, listen up:

You’re not going to have the body of a Baywatch bombshell unless those happen to be your genetics. And even then, it takes far more effort than most of us have time for. You know why they look like that? Because it’s their job! They pay the bills by spending half the day at the gym and the other half pretending to act. That’s just how it goes. The rest of us, for the majority, pay our bills in a manner that doesn’t tone our biceps. Sorry.

Stop buying forty dollar jars of cream to reduce your wrinkles by 32%. Stop buying diet pills that just make you shit more. Stop measuring yourself up to a poster of someone who spent two hours in hair, makeup and wardrobe, and then a week in photoshop. You will fail, and you will feel like shit for no damn reason.

And that makes you a bigger retard than a fat ass with obnoxious earrings.


Carolyn says:

I love you. This is awesome. Fuck the Annexorexics!

Maytina says:

Annexorexics! OMFG I love it!

I’m stuffing white rice into my face right now! Go Tofu, GO!!!!!!!!!!

talea says:

I believe my most famed quote on this subject, when debating whether we should continue in our wine consumption was, “I’d rather be drunk than skinny”. I stand by that. I do.

greenmetropolis says:

YES!!!!!! So true. At least there’s a slight bit of romanticism in being a lush.

Paul B. says:

Can I buy you a cheeseburger maybe?

I’m totally vegetarian, but not vegan, so if you want to send me a Lick’s Nature burger covered in cheese, you can go right ahead. I will enjoy it with great orgasmic sounds. Lick’s nature burgers are the best things in the world. Ever.

Paul B. says:

A “Licks Burger”… woah now that is obscene if ever I heard it.

This has to be only blog which leaves me speechless.. its like how does a guy comment on “I’ve got tits and you are going to like them….” Its like… “err yeah ok, thanks for the guidance notes”.

Your blog is strangely addictive.. Stay angry.

Rob Tyler says:

Well, it held me to the end, which is a good thing, and u seemed to have others that are with u on this, (see comments) which is a good thing, and I know people that would love this, which is a good thing , and you definitely make some important points but…

I gather u intended to be offensive, right? The vibe, the language it’s all so dark, that’s by design, right? Your sexual uninhibited ness is what you were wanting to convey to the reader, right? I’m guessing the fact that anybody can read this is incidental to you?

Just questions, there are no right or wrong answers.

Oh, and your blog IS strangely addictive.. Get Happy.

greenmetropolis says:

You don’t have Lick’s Burgers where you are? Huh, I guess it is a Canadian thing. It also comes with a suspicious looking Guk sauce that was so frigging popular you can buy it at the supermarket alongside the burgers now. Sweeeeeeet.

greenmetropolis says:

@ Rob: The fact that anybody can read this is, yes, incidental. If I cared what the general populace thought of me, I’d still be pushing green beans around a bland dinner plate instead of slapping the hoods of cars who nearly run me over and yelling “assmonkey!”. My lack of sexual inhibition is just a matter of who I am. As for offensiveness, that’s a matter of perception. This particular post is actually meant to be a positive. I’m not affected enough by media to sell out to infomercials, why the hell is anybody else?
Oh, except for fat lazy bastards. I hope they’re offended enough to get their ass on a fucking treadmill and stop taking up more air than they deserve.

Paul B. says:

Guk sauce? Is that like Maple Syrup by another name…. 😉

greenmetropolis says:

Haha, nope! It’s this delicious garlickly mayo type sauce. Like McDonald’s ‘secret sauce’ except it’s delicious and isn’t made out of thousand island dressing left out in the sun or something. It’s made out of pure awesomeness, and possibly a little bit of crack.

romi41 says:

As you’ve seen in my past comments, you often leave me with the “quote of the post” LOL kinda feeling…in this case:

““I’m fat and sassy, so I’m going to wear Baby Phat clothing and big fucking obnoxious earrings and you can all just squish over in your subway seats.””

That’s fantastic, and it’s so ironic that they wear Baby “Phat”, but anyway…

You know, I like what you’re saying here; for me, it’s not the 15-year old version of me that had it all wrong, it’s more like today’s version; like anytime I go home to see the folks, my mom looks at my 26-year old figure and wonders how much weight I’ve gained since last time; the answer is always “none”, but that’s mothers for ya (or at least mine, who thinks I should be a stick, or no one will ever marry me…LOL…next time she says that, I am SO gonna throw out the “you’re projecting, stop projecting on me” bit, thanks for the tip! 🙂 )

-And as for you enlightening Paul about Lick’s, there’s a Lick’s down the street from my work, and we go there for lunch once a week, no matter what…and yes…I always get an extra side of guck, LOL 😉

nahole says:

With my serious fucking hat on I say nice fucking job. As you know, I fucking hate the way people’s priorities are all twisted and fucked up by the media and society so keep hating one. I also love your fucking positive attitude about your self and your fucking body. It makes you fucking hot.

greenmetropolis says:

Sweet. Somehow it’s more of a compliment when an asshole says I’m hot. When nice boys say I’m hot, I’m more likely to think “ugh, kiss-ass” and push them into a gutter. I wouldn’t push you into a gutter, nahole….unless that’s your thing…you know…then that’d just be courtesy.

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