FatKidsLie

I’m fat. I admit it. Hell, I ADVERTISE it. But I’m also a self-aware fatty. I know what chairs I can sit in, and when I’ve just got to lean up against a sturdy I-Beam.

And I don’t even walk with a cane.

This one guy, however, that went to my niece’s job to start up an account… is fat. And semi-retarted.

This guy’s so fat he has to have special over-engineered chairs. Something designed by the US. Army Corp of Engineers. Something that’s been hurricane tested by Boeing (for the farts). You see, MOST corporate office waiting areas don’t have that. They have particle board crap that LOOKS like it’s almost nice. Stuff that if you’re under a seventh of a ton you’re allowed to sit in. But for this guy, standing wasn’t an option. So he sat in a chair. And broke it.

After the explosion that lodged a piece of laminate in the ceiling and nearly poked out the secretary’s eye, the dust cleared and this guy was on his back, legs waving like a waterbeatle. The secretary had do go help him up. All 100lbs of her, and all 400lbs of him.

She’s going to be fine. She gets out of traction tomorrow. Don’t worry.

She did manage to get him up after crawling to the warehouse door, and calling for “3 big HUGE guys!!!” to come help her.

The customer got a huge discount on his sales.

My neice is a bit of a tard. Well, that’s not true. She’s really a bright girl, gonna be a teacher or something i dunno… I don’t really pay too much attention to stuff unless it’s about how to get me some more Legos or Doctor Who DVDs.

Why, if I fully admit that she’s a person of reasonable intelligence, do I call her a “tard”? Well… She ate the yellow snow.

Not lately though. More like 20 someodd years ago. When we were all kids.

Let me clear something else up: I’ve got a niece that’s a year older than me and one that’s a year younger than me. The details of this are not pertinent to this Blog Entry…

So we’re out playing in the snow one day and Naomi (my niece) is out in the driveway of my sister’s (her mom) house. Naomi runs up to me and goes “ZOMGZ!!! There’s some SPECIAL snow over here by the tree!!!! All this other snow is white and boring but this snow’s YELLOW! **IT MUST BE GOLD SNOW!!! WE’RE RICH!!!!!*”…

well…

My little sister and I knew what it was. I mean, how can you not? But being the unrelenting bastard that I am I decided to mess with her.

“That’s not gold you silly-butt! That’s juice! Hold on…” and I went to get a dixi-cup from the kitchen. Which should have triggered a “red-flag” from my parents or my sister or brother-in-law but they were all busy drinking coffee and eating cheese danish or something that they just gave me a dixi-cup without much of a second thought….

So I scooped the snow up into the cup and said “Here ya go! It’s a snowcone!” Naomi’s eyes lit up. She actually “sqeeeeeeeeEEEE”ed… took a lick.. looked at me… ran back inside crying while I was laughing and rolling in the snow.

My sister came out and yet again I was put in a garbage can. Without pants.

But who doesn’t know that Yellow Snow isn’t lemon flavored?