Yes, We Listen

For all of you Peeping Thomases out there who question the interactive nature of the Internet, we here at Fat-Chat shall prove scientifically that we are, for lack of a better vocabulary, interactive. To that end, I would like to respond to a comment left by our most prolific commenter, Gucci Muse.

Her original comment, reproduced scientifically, is as follows:

Gucci Muse said...

ok, this is what I think, or what I know.

I have seen MANY MANY MANY MANY gorgeous men with FAT or OBESE women. Once I saw at a bar on the beach, a chunky assed woman, in a BIKINI, with her belly HANGING OVER the bottoms, sitting at a bar, with a STUD, tanned gorgeous boy standing at the bar trying to hit on her and was obviously mesmerized.

I often wondered what she had.

My friend's mother said: CONFIDENCE, and its true. It also works for FUGLY women b/c they have it as well.

So don't worry so much about the number on the scale, just keep doing what you do.


My scientific reply to her comment:

Pigassus said...

I understand what professional pick-up men call the "confidence game". In this game dice are shaved, imperceptibly at the corners, so that they will have a better chance of landing on the desired numbers, usually 7 or 11, also called "craps". And since I am so knowledgeable in this game, I can say without a doubt that it has nothing to do with chubby women in bikinis and the staggering beefcake trying to "score" with them.

No. Only one thing can explain the actions of the man in the above example and that complex psycho-chemical behavioral theory can be summed up in two words: Beer Goggles.

Or the dreaded "Margarita Mask" if you live near Texas.

You see, the muscle bound stud was intoxicated, and not by Orca's confident charm I assure you. Men and women both understand the social lubricator that is a mass consumption of strong libations. Was she displaying a great deal of confidence? Sure, but probably because she noticed he had recently vomited into the cabana trash can. As he squinted heavily upon his approach to her place at the buffet, she gained a great deal of courage and certainty that must have looked a lot like old-fashioned confidence.

In case you are not convinced, allow me to regale you with another provably learned example:

I was at the grocery store last week buying healthy, organically grown, farm-raised Cheetos and beer when I spotted what can best be described as a "slammin' hottie". Tall, dark haired with strong, slender legs and a huge set of gorgeous teeth, she turned into the chip isle where I was about to grab a low-fat bag of baked Doritos (for good health). Upon seeing her, I quickly and imperceptibly drew myself up to my full height and reached for the snacks with my muscular arm confidently. I couldn't have looked more self-assured lurching for those tasty treats.

But I could have been part of the coupon display.

And why did she not notice me? Because she wasn't drunk and I am poor.

In her sober, calculating state, she might have literally failed to see me. Like actually as she walked down the isle she only saw chips and peanuts and my cart and thought to herself, "What jerk left a cart unattended? And this isn't the tanning lotion isle. Where am I? "

Had I been thinking clearly, which I wasn't because of the attempt to suck in my six-pack of "abs", I would have pulled out some cash. But since I just had a few ones and a nickle, likely she would have only seen the money and I would have remained invisible and prompted a frightened, "OMG, who left their money floating in mid-air?"

So you see, confidence means nothing to dumb girls and now we have proof.

All we need now are some drinks.

Pigassus

Post Script: All kidding aside, Gucci is right about confidence. Maybe it doesn't get you a night of indescribable fun with "slammin' hotties", but if you are less than physically perfect, it sure can take you a long way... to the free clinic.

So I hear.