Big Boned Women vs. Skinny Women

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Man has a preference for full figure women's body types.
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I was happy, perfectly content, with my wife, Joan, that is, until she lost 100 pounds. We had a good life as man and wife, a life that was centered around food and the kitchen. Truly, is there anything else in life? Only, all that changed with daytime and reality TV.

I built her a custom kitchen with a big island and loads of granite countertops and work spaces. She had custom cabinetry everywhere, an eight burner professional grade stove with double ovens and efficient exhaust fan, a huge double door refrigerator with freezer on the bottom, a full sized microwave/confection oven, and two dishwashers to take care of cleaning up the mess. Everything was in stainless steel, of course, and went stylishly well with the colorful mosaic backsplash and the newly refinished hardwood floor.

As my Joanie loved to cook and bake, she loved her kitchen. If she wasn't cooking it in, then she was cleaning it. I always knew where to find her, she was always in that kitchen.

"Joanie, I'm home!"

"I'm in the kitchen."

See, I told you. Every time I walked in that house, something smelled good and Joan was busy cooking something. Life was good and tasted good, too.

To tide us over when first waking up in the morning, we'd have homemade sweet, sticky rolls with freshly brewed French Roast coffee, the strongest brew, stronger even than Columbian coffee, before having a full breakfast of bacon and eggs with pancakes or French toast and home fries. Then, for lunch, I'd always come home from work for lunch. We'd have a supersized cold cut sub, a big grinder with fries, or homemade pizza or splurge and buy takeout, Chinese food or Buffalo wings with fries and a full complement of sauces. Dinner was always the biggest meal of the day and, let me tell you, I never left that table hungry and without having a second helping. Everything she made was oh so good.

Boy, my wife is a great cook and an even better baker. Cakes, pies, cookies, puddings, pastries, whatever, everything was homemade and delicious. We always had people over our house looking to see what Joanie baked. No one left our house hungry, that's for sure.

"Eat, eat, there's plenty," I'd say bringing out the home baked goods, whenever anyone dropped up unexpectedly, as they always did when they knew that Joanie was baking. "Joanie whipped that up this afternoon. She's so talented. Isn't it delicious?"

It was when she started watching that damn Doctor Oz and taking to heart what he had to say about people being obese. Obese my ass. If anything, Joanie and I are just a little chubby, big boned is all and a little gassy.

I hate that skinny, little guy. He should mind his own business. Instead of talking about things that aren't a problem, such as obesity, he should talk about real issues on his show. He should concentrate on real problems like the healthcare bill or feeding the homeless, instead of trying to get people to diet, exercise, and lose the natural and normal baby fat they were born with and need to carry throughout their entire lives.

Just because Doctor Oz is skinny, and miserable because he's hungry, no doubt, he wants everyone else to be skinny and miserably hungry. Well, it doesn't work that way. He'd understand more about the human needs of eating and eating well, if he ever came home to supper and ate one of Joanie's home cooked meals.

"Let's put on the feedbag. Doctor Oz is in the house."

You just have to look at the past to see where you want to go in the future, that's what I always say. Just look back at Laurel and Hardy. Hardy was the happy and well adjusted one, where Laurel was the skinny loser. Hardy was always laughing, while waving his necktie while Laurel always looked so sad, no doubt, because he was so skinny and hungry.

And what about Curley on the Three Stooges, yeah, sure, he was big boned like me, but he was always laughing. Dom Deluise, Jackie Gleason, and Larry the Cable Guy, all big boned men and all happy being in their big sized men's clothes. You noticed that I wrote men's clothes and not little boys clothes.

Understandably, Dom Deluise and Jackie Gleason are dead, but both lived long and happy lives, dying in their 70's. Oh, and Roseanne Barr was happy, funny, and never stopped laughing, that is, until she lost weight. Kate Smith was always smiling because she was never hungry, her big bones wouldn't allow it. Yeah, just think about that when you're denying yourself from eating a cupcake or a donut. Go ahead, eat up, it's good for you.

Chances are if you're hungry, you're big boned. Contrary to what the drug companies want us to believe, a little carbohydrates and sugar never killed anyone. It's all those pills that we're taking for high cholesterol, high blood pressure, and diabetes that will put us in the grave, sooner than later. Nothing but chemicals, things we can't taste or smell, we don't know what's in them. At least I know every ingredient in the food that Joanie makes, sugar and spice and everything nice.

I'm certainly not fat and Joanie isn't fat either. We're just a little chubby from the baby fat, big boned, and a little gassy that makes us always look bloated. Hell, we're not fat at all. We have bones as big as a brontosaurus. If you subtracted the weight of our bones and we farted out all that gas, we'd be underweight for sure. We shouldn't be penalized just because we were born with big bones. My whole family, Mom, Dad, sister Bertha, and Billy Ray are all big boned people.

Then, there's that quack of a doctor, Doctor Phil. I hate that baldheaded charlatan. He had a special program, a weight challenge program where his guests won prizes for how much weight they lost. He's another guy that I take whatever he says with a grain of salt.

It wouldn't surprise me if he gets a big kickback from the drug companies by telling his viewers that they need to be medicated. If you ask me, he lost all his commonsense when he lost all his hair. He's not even a real doctor. He's not a medical doctor, never went to medical school, he just has a Ph.D. in psychology. Anybody can get that diploma, stick it on the wall, and call themselves a doctor. It's not the same.

He really needs to mind his own business when it comes to weight loss. What does he know? Who does he think he is Richard Simmons? These guys just jump on the band wagon because they know they can make a quick buck on people who like to eat.

Just because Dr. Phil's wife Robin is a dwarf, a little person, a midget, a skinny minny, he thinks all women should look like her. I'd rather have a woman that I can feel something, a bit of meat on her big bones, when I'm slamming her into the mattress and her head into the wall. If I pounded Dr. Phil's wife, Robin the way that I pound my Joanie, she'd be in pieces.

Then, there was that aptly named show, the Biggest Loser. That show is a big loser, as far as I'm concerned. Only Joanie is addicted to that show and she wouldn't miss watching an episode for anything. I hate that show. Yeah, sure, I like ogling the shapely women on that show, that is, until they slim down and all look so much like coat hangers.

These shows are giving my Joanie all the wrong ideas and filling her head with the belief that she can look like that, too. She can't. There's just no way. Her bones are too big. Yeah, sure, she could lose some of her baby fat, but she'd look funny with her big bones sticking out of her skin.

Finally, there's that big mouth Oprah talking about exercise, diet, and nutrition. By the size of her, we all know she doesn't know what she's talking about. Boy, I'm glad she's retiring next year. I've had enough of her.

If I don't have to hear Joanie talk about the show she watched where Oprah had one of her Chefs on showing how to make low calorie food and how she can make desserts from vegetables like Jerry Seinfeld's skinny, little boned wife, Jessica, or that Bob Greene talking about exercise, give me a break. Vegetables are for kids and not for men who work at men's jobs all day, construction. Besides that, I get plenty of exercise on my job. I'd like to see that skinny, little boned Bob Greene carry a load of lumber up four flights of stairs.

What good did Oprah's knowledge or lack thereof about exercise, diet, and nutrition do her? Have you seen her lately? She's bigger than ever. Her tits can't get any bigger than they are or they'll explode and her wide load of an ass, in combination with those massive thighs she hides by wearing long dark colored dresses, still makes her look well over 200 pounds. If you ask me, she looks the best she ever looked.

Only, she's gaining weight instead of losing weight and you'd think my wife would take the hint and follow Oprah's lead and want to know the secret recipe for gaining weight like Oprah, instead of losing weight like Kim Kardashian. You'd think with Oprah's billions of dollars, she could buy a skinny body, if she wanted one, but it's obvious she doesn't want it, probably because she knows can't have it, anyway. She's too big boned. Even her lesbian girlfriend, Gayle King, has packed on the pounds. She's another big boned woman. Boy, what I wouldn't do to be in the same room alone with those two big boned beauties.

Sadly after watching all these know-it-all bastards and skinny, little boned bitches on television, who are just on the air to sell their diet books and exercise plans, my wife, Joan, stopped making the sticky sweet rolls that I love so much for a snack with our morning coffee before breakfast. Then, without even telling me, she switched to decaf and I wondered why I wasn't waking up in the morning and felt so tired, cranky, irritable and had a headache that lasted all day. It was my lack of my much needed dose of caffeine.

I can't remember the last time Joanie made pancakes or French toast. Now, she buys that thin sliced bread that tastes like tree bark. Lunch is more appropriate for a rabbit, salad without dressing with celery and carrots. Are you kidding me? I'm hungry. I figured I'd fill up on supper, but that's Lean Cuisine or some other kind of low calorie diet food that is more of an appetizer than it is a main course. Now that my wife is a vegan, my beef with all this diet food is where's the beef?

Moreover, have you seen the prices on this so called diet and healthy food? They cost a premium price, further proof that they just want your money. It's all a scam, a rip-off, and I'm not buying it literally and figuratively. They don't care how much you weigh or don't weigh, so long as you cough up your hard earned dough and buy whatever it is they're selling.

Next year, after all these gullible people lose weight, they'll be selling fat food, normal food at premium prices. Mark my words and best you buy stocks in whipped cream, ice cream, cake, cookie, pie, and chocolate companies. When all these so called fat people get thin and revert to eating real food again, instead of dietary chemically created compound confections made from artificial sweeteners and low-cal this and no-fat that, real food, prices will go through the roof. They won't be able to give diet and health conscious foods away at any price.

It's just like the car manufacturers. First they talk you into buying big, roomy cars, and then suddenly, there's a manufactured gas crisis from supply and demand. Global warming my ass. They lie about there being a fossil fuel shortage and now they want you to buy small, fuel efficient cars. Just like the whole diet industry, it's all just a scam. Then, after everyone is driving around in a Honda Civic, cars that are much too small for my big boned body, they roll out the big SUV's, again.

Have you seen Kirstie Alley lately? She looks great, doesn't she? I've never seen her look better. She's one smart cookie, that one. Instead of actually losing any weight, she only promises people she'll lose weight. She tells people how she's about to lose weight by writing a book and having her own television show to watch her lose the weight. Mark my words, she won't lose a pound. She can't. She's too big boned.

I miss having takeout delivery, pizza and Chinese food. I'm hungry. Did I mention that I'm hungry? I am. I'm hungry. Now, my wife has me losing weight, too. My pants that fit me good, real before, tight in the ass, stomach, and crotch, now hang off me.

After nearly a year of Joanie going to the gym every day, parking the car in the next city, instead of using her mother's handicap placard and parking in the handicap zone, she walks whenever we go to the supermarket and/or mall.

"Joanie, where you going? You're a mile away. There was a space right in front of the door. Why are you parking way over here? You're taking your life in your hands by walking through the mall parking lot."

Now, she watches and counts the calories of every single thing she puts in her mouth. She's lost 100 pounds. She's way too thin. She's skinny. She's all bone. There's nothing to her. She looks like a coat hanger.

I'd kill for a cookie or a piece of chocolate. I'm sick to death of plain, unbuttered and unsalted popcorn as a snack. Snack my ass. What the Hell kind of snack is plain, unbuttered and unsalted popcorn? At least put some melted cheese on it or something, chocolate even. Eating plain popcorn is like eating those Styrofoam things they use to keep glassware from breaking in a shipped package.

"Yuck!"

Yeah, sure, Joanie looks good, real good. Her goal was to wear a bikini this summer and she did that. All of her big boned clothes are gone, given away to Goodwill, and she spent a few thousand dollars on new clothes, I know because I paid all the bills. She doesn't cook anymore. She's never home anymore to cook. Now, she's never in her kitchen.

"Joanie, I'm home!"

See, where she always used to be in the kitchen before, now there's just an echo that bounces of the stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, ceramic tiled backsplash, and the newly refinished hardwood floor. I have no idea where she is since she got a job as an executive secretary to the President of some La Dee Da fashion company.

When she's not at the gym, she's working late and having a drink or supper with the boss.

"It's just business," she said. "Don't wait up. I'll be late, again."

Business my ass. She's probably having an affair.

She shops for clothes every weekend, where before she'd spend her weekend baking homemade cookies, cakes and pies. She spends her time and money at the salon having her hair, nails, and makeup done. Then, she goes for massages that she suddenly needs to relax her.

She's not the same woman I married. I liked her better, loved her more, when she was big boned and attached to me at the hip. What the Hell is going on here anyway? This is no kind of a marriage. This is two ships passing in the night, instead of feasting at home, as if we were on a an eternal cruise ship.

Then, it happened. A few months ago, she told me that she wasn't attracted to me anymore. She wants a divorce and now we're separated. I got custody of the kitchen, though. I wasn't giving that up without a fight. She didn't want it, had no need for it, anyway, with her new little boned body.

She said that I was too fat, too inactive, and a couch potato. Can you imagine? I'm big boned, is all, and a little bloated. Hell, I still have my baby fat.

I'm tired after working all day, supervising a construction crew. I just want to sit in front of the television and relax, have a few beers, and something to eat. What's wrong with that? I'm not the type of guy who enjoys painting the town red, which is what she wants to do now with someone. I'm a home body.

She said that she still loved me but that she wasn't in love with me. Huh? What does that even mean?

She said she was leaving me for her tennis instructor, Todd. Tennis instructor? I didn't even know she played tennis. And what the Hell kind of name is Todd? I'll show him the couch potato that I am with a size 13 show up his skinny ass.

My life as I knew it is no longer the same. It's a mess. I'm lost. I'm lonely. I'm hungry. Did I write that I'm hungry? I am. I'm hungry. I miss having a good woman in the kitchen cooking for me.

My friends told me to join one of those Online dating services. That's not for me. I'm not a computer geek. What I did instead was to go to the baking aisle of the supermarket and there I saw her. She wasn't wearing any rings and didn't have any screaming kids with her. She had that sad, lonely look that Joanie had when I first met her. I had to park my carriage away from her because there was no way that I could squeeze by her with her big boned, bloated ass blocking most of the aisle.

"Pardon me, Miss" I said. "How much do you weigh?"

"Excuse me?"

She shot me a look that nearly knocked me in the dairy aisle.

"Your weight, if you don't mind me asking. How much do you weigh?"

"I'm not going to tell you what I weigh," she said standing tall, sucking in her big boned gut and giving me a look that could freeze a Boston cream pie. "It's impolite to ask a woman what she weighs. Besides, you're no lightweight either, Buster. You're bigger than I am by at least a hundred pounds."

"I figure you for 240, 250," I said standing steadfast and looking up and down her big boned, bloated, beautiful body. "Am I in the ballpark?"

"Thank you, you're too kind. I'm 280," she said with a coy blush.

"I'll pick you up this Saturday for a date."

"You will?"

"Where do you live?"

"I live at 5 Crestview Road," she said with a blush.

"Okay, I'll be there at 8pm sharp. We'll go out to eat."

"Go out? Oh, no, I don't go out much, especially to eat. Why don't I cook a full meal for us, instead, with dessert? Do you like chocolate cheesecake and homemade creampuffs?"

"Perfect, I love chocolate cheesecake and creampuffs. I'll see you Saturday."

"Wait, I don't even know your name."

"Bob, my name is Bob and what's your name?"

"Betty."

"Hi Betty. I'm pleased to meet you," I said shaking her big boned hand.

Love at first sight, Bob and Betty were married soon after having their first home cooked dinner together. Only, Bob sacrificed his beloved Football Network not to get cable. He didn't want Betty watching Doctor Oz, Dr. Phil, Bob Greene or Oprah and getting any foolish ideas about losing weight and not cooking and baking.

...and they lived happily ever after, that is, until Bob suddenly suffered a massive heart attack at only 48-years-old and needed subsequent open heart bypass surgery to save his life. Betty, at 46-years-old, was diagnosed with diabetes, high cholesterol, and high blood pressure.

Now, that they discovered that their bones are no heavier than anyone else their size, they take their assorted medications and never miss an episode of Doctor Oz, Oprah, Dr. Phil, and have all of Bob Greene's books and videos on exercise and nutrition.

Fearing global warming and the gas crisis, Bob traded in his Ford Excursion for a Honda Civic.

"Oh, here's Bob now."

"Bob, you look great. How much weight have you lost?"

"I lost a hundred and fifty pounds and you better step out of my way before I pour some salt on your head and eat you. I'm hungry. Did I tell you I'm hungry? I am."

  • COMMENTS
6 Comments
gperry2843gperry2843about 11 years ago
Good story!

Perfectly fits the category, is both humor & satire. Sometimes you just don't get no respect.

AnonymousAnonymousover 14 years ago
ain't it the truth

the skinnies are all miserable because they are always hungry!not worth it go and have a hamburger and be a happy slob

AnonymousAnonymousover 14 years ago
FUNNY!

This was hilarious! I loved it!

AnonymousAnonymousover 14 years ago
Funny Story

Right to the end---Funny! Great writing.

AnonymousAnonymousover 14 years ago
Started out good

Started out good and turned out to be crap-a Al Gore bull shit story--Chubby woman are the best fucks--suck cock--yes--not some liberal, socialist Obama cockind dead-beat waiting for free money from my taxes--eat and be happy, the goverment will take it away some and you will bet working in the spud fields.----then you will all be skinny assholes.

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