The Creole King

To Alex.

So small in his way
He loathes the light of day
Smokey the Bear
So proudly, that hat he shall wear
Several Hats, Proud Haitian, Archeologist and Sinner
In each and every capacity, my darling is a winner
Clever, full of wit,
After smoking, never does he spit
Experiment though he may with illicit drugs
He's never too high to hand out those special hugs
Selfless and endearing,
His Mom was excellent at child rearing
The best decision I've made lately?
Definitely, traveling along with him on that service trip to Haiti.

Close Encounters of the Fat Kind.

I've been meaning to do this for months, so now that I'm comfortably out of school, having successfully completed this Degree, *Pelvic thrusts and epilepsy attacks*, I have all the time in the world to explore this issue;

 Factors Preventing Women in the Fat Community from Healthy, Lasting [Any] Relationships.

N.B.- Fortunately, this situation is far less prevalent than it was in yesteryear. However, personal experience has moved me to bring the issue to the forefront, so shut the fuck up and hear me roar.

I have several theories that attempt to explain the evident apprehension experienced by men facing the current predicament. I invite you to take a few minutes from your stressful day and indulge me. I promise, it won't be long.

The first, and more common of the reasons is the fear men often express of the negative reactions from their Friends

- at which point, I daresay, you shouldn't care to be bothered with this man, he clearly isn't mature enough to independently think. I would hardly even classify the creature as a fucking man. Men go about engaging with women NOTORIOUS for their promiscuity, ignoring any commentary or forewarnings from their friends. These same motherfucking pieces of shit men will exclaim in an instant "Nah, I'm not boutta try to talk to her, you want my friends to play me?" Sir, if this is your excuse, hold a heartfelt FUCK OFF and go about your pathetic life, Many Thanks.

The Second reason has much to do with stereotypes of Fat Women. These include but are not limited to the following.

- The delicate issue of activities in the boudoir. - Basically, Awkward sex. I blame the media for never showing us in an intimate light. There are NEVER any fat bitches in the Bold and the Beautiful [Sally Spektra ain't NEVER get no kinda love!]

- Not sexy - If this wasn't an anonymous blog, I would SHOW you bitches what sexy truly is *scoffs*. I again blame the media for their portrayal of what women should look like. You hoes KNOW I stress good health, but I also am vehemently against the idea of striving for dress sizes rather than a healthy weight. The media has little or no positive Portrayal of larger women in functional, lovey-dovey, mushy ass relationships [again, hats off to "Drop Dead Diva"]. No matter your argument, Media defines what a "Bad Bitch" is, and I haven't seen a SINGLE magazine since Adele's Grammy wins portraying anyone over a size 8 in an attractive light. In this case, i urge you to go against the cookie-cutter image of what is taught to be sexy, and see and acknowledge what truly is sexy in the flesh, when confronted with it. [Size 6, or a size 16].

The third reason is one which is far more forgiving than the previous.

- Fat women simply may not be the preference of a man in this predicament. Everyone is entitled to a preference. I'm personally partial to the taller and darker members of the sex. Just as I find it humanly impossible to be attracted to any man less than 6'2", it's forgivable to simply not find larger women attractive. This reason aptly segues into the final justification a man may have for being apprehensive, I implore you to read on.

Lastly, the most complex of the justification of Fat-Bitch abuse; Dating a Fat Woman is against the better judgement of the person. 

- This concept is extremely complicated so allow me to explain. I'm an attractive young lady, gorgeous face, commanding presence, [extremely] well put together, BADDEST BITCH ALIVE,  etc, etc. I also happen to be keenly perceptive and observant of body language, facial expressions and any other indicator that a man is in the least bit attracted to a woman. [Yes, bitches, I'm on the prowl]. I know many of you will read this and think "what a self-obsessed, narcissistic, snobbish bitch". Though I am exactly that, the previous description of myself is not without credible evidence. I cannot count the amount of times I've seen men second-guess me. Attractive, civilized, seemingly successful men. They stand agape for all of 10 seconds, they double, triple, quadruple-take, and then the look of apprehension spreads across their face, they hang their heads, and continue about their business not without stealing a final glance. I graduated from an accredited University with a Bachelors in Psychology, I know what I'm talking about. 

To the men who find themselves often plagued with this.... this syndrome, stop second guessing. We really don't bite [vouching for myself here, I don't know the freaky shit other bitches be on]. I know society's tried to convince you of what attractive women should look like. Many of us don't fit the description, but we're fucking gorgeous. It's within your hands to grow some balls, step your pussy up and make the best of it. 

In concluding, please allow me to say that any alleged man who refuses to court a woman or engage with her on an intimate level on the basis of Aesthetics must immediately desist from classifying himself as such. No true man would allow so petty an issue to cloud his judgement and impede his potential happiness. If you, as a man in this day and age has taken the brave step, [for it is indeed a brave step], to date a woman from our esteemed community, I take my hat off to you.

Sincerely,

EFB.

On another note...

My take on society's treatment of Aesthetic Deviants:

Society allows an excruciatingly precise level of deviance, one calculated to sit just before the strand which separates the limitation of individuality and that which is deemed unacceptable.

 Perhaps an example of the phenomenon is necessary to better illustrate what I’m trying to say [for the dumb asses out there who got lost]. Let’s use the grooming of Black men. The standard for society is for a man to don a neatly trimmed low cut; goatees, moustaches, and the like being acceptable to a certain degree. The accepted deviation of this would be what many call “dreads”, however, if and only if these dreads are regularly re-twisted and kept neatly, are they considered societally acceptable. At best, the furthest acceptable deviation would be the man with a mildly twisted afro, perhaps a beard, and though his hair is unkempt, it is not without the upkeep of regular shape-ups at the barber to ensure his edges are always in tact, with the same policy standing for his beard.

Jamaica is the very birthplace of Rastafari, from whence spanned the social  movement to grow Locks. It was this movement which  begat the trend now known as “dreads” in hundreds of countries over the globe. This very trend, and it's pioneer, Robert Nesta Marley has allowed this small Caribbean nation to make a monumental footprint in hearts and minds across the world. Ironically, however, in Jamaica, a man of Rastafari who embodies the principle of not putting a blade to his face or head, is scorned, shunned, socially ostracized and openly vilified among the public.  

Now, ain't that about a bitch.

A Spike Tail?

I've recently decided [in the last two minutes] to not go on dates during the Winter. Not only must we squeeze our stomachs, sides and asses through the maze of impractically tight seating in these alleged establishments, but imagine how tedious it must be for us, after this journey to the ends of the restaurant [particularly bitches my size, panting, sweating and shit] to gracefully shed all those layers, stacking and stuffing our items in whichever crevice that will allow it; hauling our leggings up to fit comfortably within the pockets of our crotch, (much like the "lock and key" method of an enzyme with it's substrate); fixing our top to show just enough cleavage, etc. etc. All this while, of course, maintaining the sexy, sophisticated facial expression, trying to discretely wipe away beads of sweat. After all this toil, we must be cognizant of our urge to plop our wide rears onto the often times less than stable seating, lean back, and do the fat girl sigh. [You know the one, it's legitimately 48-55 seconds long, our eyes are closed, neck rolled back, and legs sprawled open]. But we resist. We maintain our posture, smile daintily, and for the remainder of the night are the perfect ladies. Don't worry, I feel for you, girlfriend.

The sad part? This description doesn't begin to describe what can, and all too often does go wrong during these winter time dates. Fuck bundling! Fuck these coats! Give us us free!
Lucky for me, I don't foresee myself suffering the misfortune of having to be bothered with a date in the near future! *sobs*. But if you do, I feel bad for you, I truly do. *scoffs*

In moving forward, lady and gentleman, this post is merely me wishing you all a prosperous New year. In true Caribbean form, I'll be telling people this up until June, because that's what we are, extra as hell.
I'd apologize for the lack of posts, but I'm not sorry. At all. I, lady and gentleman, am in the final lap of pursuing my degree from this God Forsaken hell of a University [I'm a PROUD Bison, shitting on you fuck niggas since 1867]. And so I refuse to apologize. I'll write as I'm so inspired, but just in case you're an editor seeking new talent, I'll happily jump to your every whim, and humbly shake my ass to make that cash v_v.

As I'm currently avoiding long overdue assignments, and quite honestly, quite over all this pretentious, pseudo academic bullshit, you'll probably be hearing from me pretty soon. I've had some issues I want addressed and I have a feeling you'll agree with me, and maybe help me seek out the answers.

In the mean time, I've been wondering.....
Maybe I just haven't been to any awesome restaurants lately, but are there any where the bar serves beverages that are merely spiked? It's not quite a cocktail, but perhaps a cork full of happiness in the dark abyss that is a glass of Coke, just for some inspiration. [A "Spike tail"?] Well, if it isn't being done, it's a travesty. I refuse to pay for a full cocktail if my drink is merely being spiked, but alas, I also refuse to subject myself to a completely non alcoholic beverage in my last semester of University.
Will not stop until I'm SHIT- FACED!

So if you know of any such bars in the District of Columbia, feel free to let me know!


Lovingly,
EFB.

Random Thoughts; Intimations of Immorality etc etc

In commemoration of my 23rd year of life, I've decided that I should state 30 random facts about me. I'm pretty fucking awesome, and I figured that the three of you that regularly read this page would like to know more about me. In this list, you'll see manifestations of previously stated beliefs, and you'll get a preview of what is to come.
Do, Enjoy!

1. I've been personally victimized by Regina George
2. I'm confused because in JA I'm a morbidly obese cow  fat, but in the U.S. I'm just thick
3. I hate the idea of 2 fat people together, I hate the idea of ppl calling it cute [see post entitled Fats on Fats, on Fats]
4. Only bums like me.. Not only, but 90% of the time the ppl that try to talk to me are bums. I have a theory however, about the class of man that gravitates towards fat bitches our people. Look out for it.
5. The other 10% I jist don't want.
6. I absolutely abhor the idea of being heavily pursued by men. It makes them vulnerable and easy, qualities I just cannot stomach. Am I backward for this?
7.I can't stand PDA, expressions of affection, and all dat bullshit. Ugh! Its uncomfortably ackward!
8. I talk to myself, like, hardcore!! Like all the time!! Sometimes I think my roommate even hears me, but I can't be bothered with hiding it anymore
8 Deep down inside I try to be a quiet sombre person but you bastards keep askin me what's wrong so to avoid questions I pretend to be this nice and happy go lucky. I've decided that it comes with being fat, and cannot be avoided
10. I only associate myself with attractive people. Shallow? I don't give a shit. You are the company that you keep.
11. In this, the 2000 and 11th year of our Lord, I have everything that I want and need, and I have acquired it all on my own. [I pretty much hit jackpot when I copped the iPad #lowkey. If you have one of those things, I swear you don't even need a house!]
12. I'm the biggest oxymoron you'll meet. [But doesn't everyone say that? *Regina George voice*]
13.I don't see anything wrong with infidelity [don't kill me, I just feel that the definition needs to be altered]
14. I know I'm going to be rich, just not quite sure how, and I honestly don't care that much for being rich. Once my lifestyle is within my means, then I'm good. It just so happens that my lifestyle is extravagant...
15. I wonder what God thinks about me, my thoughts, likes and dislikes... And urges
16. I'm really slow sometimes... But I don't mind for ignorance is bliss.
17. I wish I was born in 1980 sometimes...
18. I really value discipline, especially in children; manners maketh a man
19 I honestly think I'm the closest thing to perfect sometimes. I have insignificant flaws
20. I believe that the world revolves around me, and that everyone elses life tends to fall in place around the chosen path for mine.
21. Paul Russel has been my biggest inspiration [No, you won't find him on Google]
22. I have never, don't now, and will probly never do relationships. But I thought I was in one once, but there was a rather embarrassing misunderstanding. The woes of a fat bitch, huh? Alas, I was young
23. I thought I was in love with that guy.
24. I dish it way better than I can take it... except in the cases of food... I prefer to take the dishes of food
25. I only recently developed the talent to think independently.
26.  I'm really impatient. Have a violent temper, and love that I'm Jamaican so ppl up here don't mess with me out of fear of being violently thrashed..
27. My fatness is a blessing and a curse, for had I been skinny I would have been promiscuous beyond thought! I would have also suffered from BBS- Basic Bitch Syndrome
28 I prefer dogs to humans, any day!!!!
29. I don't know how to put my feet in boots, unless they're zip ups. It takes 30 minutes, per foot of Ugg.
30. My name was suppose to be "Gwendolyn." ... the one I ended up with is way worse -__-. Thanks Mother


And this, boys and girl, is how I came to be.  No, I didn't turn 30, I'm a young, supple-breasted 23 year old young woman and I truly look forward for what is to come!


Cheers! 
*cue, Birthday Cake x Rihanna*

Disorderly Conduct; An account of an absolutely traumatizing experience.

I had to lament to my readers [all 3 of you] the troubled heart with which I witnessed a bigger woman conduct herself last Friday evening.

After a long day of toil and sweat, my colleagues and I decided it would behoove us to go out to ease our minds of all the stresses that accompany being a Prospective Graduate. Applying to these jobs is truly no joke. Though far later than usual, we huddled together and ventured to our regular spot.
Packed almost to capacity, our lounge was filled with young professionals in suits, awkwardly attempting to look modelesque, yet unsuccessfully avoiding invading another person's personal space.

We weaseled our way through the crowded bar and finally found a spot for our party of 8 [6 bitches and two dudes deep]. We fist-pumped, head-bobbed, and threw up our gang signs with relative comfort, and were just starting to settle in when we saw disaster plummeting its way toward us.

A size 24 bitch with the biggest breasts I'd ever seen came a stumbling upon our cozy group, clad in a white, knit crop-top, bright red scarf and ....... a FLOOR LENGTH FADED JEAN JACKET! -__-

Ladies and gentlemen, words cannot describe my dismay, disappointment, and the VOID which swiftly penetrated my soul after seeing this disaster come across our presence. I am sincere when I say it deeply saddens me to inform you that the worst is yet to be told.

After stomping her way to the midst of our group, the large woman, in ALLLLLLL her pomp and circumstance remained planted in our personal, emotional AND mental space! I dared not throw any glances of suspicion her way, lest her equally huge and imposing wing-bitch come to her defense. And so there we stood, hopeless to the wild gyrating, the obnoxious booty-popping and the thrusts of that humungous chest in our faces.

I stood affixed, and my mouth agape at how loud this woman was. She epitomized every negative stereotype EVER conceived of Plus sized women, and I was utterly distraught at how she managed to, in a matter of seconds, obliterate everything plus sized women of empowerment like you and me have ever worked for; our image, our decorum, our style; everything! Above all else, she proudly donned this FLOOR LENGTH FADED JEAN JACKET! I was mind boggled! How could she do this to us?

Unbelievably enough, this still was not the worst! In a swift motion, the lady in question proceeded to grab one of the males in our party from behind and grope his ass! O_O To the other guy we were with, she crept up behind him and assaulted his back with her Double G breasts, while screaming "I know you want a piece!" in his ear! The maniacal look in her eyes and the grin across her heavily creased face gave me reason to believe that shit had indeed gotten very real.
With all of our might, the 6 of us girls rescued our friends from her gyrating, crop-top clad breasts and made a speedy exit. Alas, she had the last say, as she did not allow us to depart  before ambushing the smaller of the guys, and thrust him at least 4 feet forward with those colossal instruments of terror.

Ladies, this woman's conduct was an eye opener. As a child I was constantly told that I was loud. After Friday evening, not a peep shall be heard from me, henceforth. For reasons unknown, larger women tend to be loud. This makes no sense when you think about it, because unlike loud small people, we are easily seen and get attention! So then, what's the point? Perhaps it's time to reform our tones.

No matter what it takes, it is imperative that we perform better.


Best, EFB


P.S.- Crop tops are dangerous items of clothing, and must be carefully executed. If one has surpassed a cup size D, then one must forgo this trend, I beg of you. What this woman did is a disservice to mankind, and to the crop top alike, and I for one can and will not stand for this abuse.

Allowance

There are certain laws and mores of society that must be upheld. Tonight I'll do my very best to establish them, lest an unsuspecting fat bitch violates these very delicate social clauses and puts herself at risk of being completely ostracized by our society. [Woah Lawd am shaaakin! >_<]

1. Never approach a man/ be too bold.

Here's the deal, we're already considered loud and course-voiced. It's genetically set-up that we have bubbly personalities so that people can see beneath our many layers of dermis, and love us for who we are. 

Though many men have a penchant for aggressive women, they become extremely intimidated when the woman is both large AND extremely aggressive. A more genteel approach may be to your advantage. It's like this; wouldn't you prefer an aggressive Pomeranian [because you know for sure that you can contain it], over the challenge of an angst-ridden German Shepherd? Yeh, I thought so. 

Because our kind hasn't been fully accepted in society, people, men mostly, still fear the reaction of their peers, should they decide to date a Fat. It's always, therefore, to their chagrin when a big bitch has a crush on them. But fear not, for the integration and acceptance has begun, and soon our woes will be a thing of the past [I hope to God].

2. Never eat in public

Eating my Potbelly sandwich today was sheer torture.... because I'm fat. Sometimes when I eat in public, I feel like the colored person in a 1960s Mississippi Diner in the "Whites Only" section. 

But why is it this way? Skinny bitches eat like depraved wilder beasts all the time and no one has anything to say! In fact, people tend to think it amusing, adorable even, for a skinny hoe to absorb a meal with the largest of men! But if WE decide to indulge in anything but a salad, the disdainful stares come from every person within a 20 mile radius; the heads begin to shake, cheekbones tighten, the lips begin to purse, and eyes begin to pierce.

It's not fair, but I have to admit, it makes perfect sense. All fat people can just live off of the fat that the Good Lord gave them, DUH! 

3. Always, ALWAYS check surfaces for sturdiness before attempting to take a seat. It is also never wise to "plop" oneself on to said seat. Gently ease one's body, until comfortable that surface can support one's weight

Nah, but this one is real though. I've personally had several incidents [costing thousands of dollars] that have left me rolling around on a floor, moaning and squealing in pain. Let us not forget our dear sister Scarlett. In posting that video to youtube she ensured that the rest of our community was reminded of the dangers of overestimating our surfaces, and underestimating our weight.

For those of you that aren't fluent in sarcasm, the above was laced with it. 

As Fats, there is absolutely no reason that we should be bound to the constraints of societal stereotypes. If I want an extra large Frozen Yogurt [yes bitches, we still aspire to good health -_-], then by God! I should be able to eat in the park without the frowns of those surrounding me. There is absolutely NO reason for me to look like a criminal at large every time I leave Chipotle, trench coat, scarf and wayfarers in tow. 

I've said it before and I'll reiterate, ladies you have nothing to prove to a soul but yourself.  If every oppressed group of people were so weak as to react according to the stereotypes and rules placed upon them, I shudder to think where the global community would be today.

Be as great as you will, and remember, the only thing a skinny bitch can do that we can't, is cross her legs at the knees [gracefully]. #There'saDifference

Yours Truly,

EFB