Theme Parks

I know what you're thinking: "Kate, how the hell does ANYONE hate theme parks? They're wonderful!" And yes, you'd be right if Fat Girls were anything at all like the normal population of human beings. But God knows we're not. We could find things to complain about in the pre-apple Garden of Eden.

And even more strange is the fact that this post was inspired by my trip to Disneyland. That's right. I'm bitching about the Happiest Place on Earth. Don't get me wrong, I fucking love Disneyland. Within two steps into Downtown Disney my hands were shaking and I was gritting my teeth while quietly screaming to myself. Clearly I don't show joy like the rest of humanity...

But then the day goes on and I found things to complain about silently to myself.

First off there's the walking. We all know how much fat girls hate walking. And no matter where you go in ANY theme park, that freaking attraction is uphill and you have to scale the Agrocrag to get to it.

So then after huffing your big ass up the mountain you have to wait in line with a million other people, and it's about 600 degrees around you because of the pure energy that the mutants are exerting and there you are, sweating like Shaq. And there's nothing you can do about it.

And then while you're in the line there's prepubescents all over the place, fondling each other, pissing you off even more because you have and never will have anyone to fondle, you lonely bitch. So you take a bite of your fried chicken and deal with it.

After you FINALLY get to the front of the line you must wedge yourself into the tiny seat provided for you and stretch that mandatory piece of nylon over your rolls. You look like a freaking muffin regardless of how you try to suck it in. There is nothing cute about a sweaty muffin.

OR you can get on one of those rides with the bench seating. On most normal rides you're supposed to be able to fit three people across the spread with room to breathe. And you know in your mind as you're approaching that there is no way in HELL you're going to be able to get on that motha' with your skinny friends. But they INSIST that you all get on together because they "know" you'll all fit. They know this because three of their kind would fit with plenty of room to lie down and twirl, but the second Fat Girl sits down they realize the error of their ways and you see the shock in their eyes as they begin to comprehend the sheer size of her ass.

So inevitably the one in the middle ends up sitting half way on your thigh and you're pinched by her bony little posterior for the duration of the ride.

What a freaking nightmare.

And then there's the matter of amusement park food!

We all know that fat girls like to get as much food as possible for the least amount of money and then they want to shovel it in before anyone notices that they used a backhoe to carry their shit to the table. You can't do that at theme parks.

First you have to pay like ten dollars for a glass of water and a crust of bread, and then because it's completely packed in the restaurant AND outside on the little seating areas everyone can see that you just paid $800 for 80 times the amount of food they're enjoying.

There's no privacy in a sardine can, which is what the amusement park is to the Fat Girl.

Moral of the Story: Fat girls don't like theme parks because they're exposed as the enormous trolls they are.