The Amazing Exploding Fatass

Well, how ever weird this month has been, it must have done something good. Yesterday morning, my workout exploded.  It’s like I can’t stop moving.  There was the workout, work, posting a bit, working some more, then working out some more.  I feel like myself again.  Hopefully soon I’ll look like myself again too.  It’s a lot closer and more real to me now.  I’ve reached the point where my weight itself is no longer getting in my way when I want to jump, run, or get low.

My knee still bothers me a bit, so I’m careful of it.  Other than that though I’m cool.  When I can get him to, I’m going to have Shai take the yearly progress photos.  This may well be my last year of being technically fat, so enjoy it while it lasts.

Thankfully, Vegeta hasn’t reared up his over gelled head to remind me anymore how worthless I am to him.  During the conversation, I got really darkside Nietzchean.  “Now I see what our real problem is.  There are two kinds of people in this world…”  I called him a sheep and said he needs to go back and play in the pasture.

Normally, I wouldn’t actually use that as a direct insult to someone.  There’s nothing wrong with being normal.  That’s a special honor I bestow to the ones who come up in my territory bleating, and expect not to get bitten.  Common folk need to stick to common folk, and go through the normal channels to get their freak on.  The city of Haifa has many fine prostitutes.  It’s legal here.

…and before you think something like, “but prostitutes are fake,” well, so are guys who care too much about a woman’s social status.  Fake sex is fake sex.  Weak drones milling around mindlessly with no individuality need to stay in their place.  When they go out looking for someone special and unique, both their time gets wasted.

I have no mercy left.  He used it all up.  It’s okay, because that was actually the last thing that needed to go.  After him, I had the clarity of mind to get on a natural diet and the courage to go explore the dark side of the male psyche.

After him, I looked for the real answer, and had an open enough mind to accept what I learned.

I learned that people like him instinctively hate people like me, and yet they need us.  We are their anthropos…the free people.

Gender and gender role is important as far as how that mixed hatred and lust will be expressed, but in the end, they want us dead.  By “they” I mean sheeple who know or sense that we exist, and want to be us, but don’t have the balls.  They are the cursed ones with the appetites of wolves but the teeth of sheep.

When I was wounded, I let him get close enough to me to hurt me.  I let him lick my wounds with his grass stained tongue, thinking that if he could swallow some of me, he could be like me.  The prey and predator were reversed, and this is against nature…but I was bleeding, and didn’t care enough about myself to fight this abomination.

Kahuna told me after reading the conversation, “Wow, you really hated yourself back then.”  I nodded.

     “I did.  I must have.”   We sat silently for a moment, and then got back to our usual talk about life and stuff.  I’m glad he was there.  Up until then, he’d only heard my side of events, and probably thought I was being overly dramatic and mean just because I got rejected.  Now, he got to see just how stupid the guy really is, and how dumb I was to go there more than once.

I tell you, women need men.  Women need dads, brothers, friends, someone all up in their business.  We need to not give anyone a chance until they have passed the gauntlet of men by whom our standards are set.  My dad’s overly religious, but I have male friends who, were they aware that I desperately needed their assistance, would never have allowed this to happen.  They would at least have shielded me emotionally to minimize the impact.

That’s what happened to Fender.  Kahuna told me from day one that he is at least respectful but probably wouldn’t stick around.  He has too many issues.  Shai told me the same.  So with him it was catch and release, no hard feelings.  When he stopped calling, I just shrugged and moved on.

Now Shai, Kahuna, Longstroke, Gadget, and I are having a good laugh, and they’re glad I’m feeling better.  They’re also all very glad that they’re free to do what men do, and look out for their “sister”.


My pronouns are whatever you're comfortable with as long as you speak to me with respect. I'm an Afruikan and Iswa refugee living in Canaan. That's African American expat in Israel in Normalian. I build websites, make art, and assist people in exercising their spirituality. I'm also the king of an ile, Baalat Teva, a group of African spirituality adherents here. Feel free to contact me if you are in need of my services or just want to chat.

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