Tuesday, 17 May 2011

░▒▓█ A Mad Imagination

I was thinking about people how they are being fat. I was wondering how they could actually be, and think they are not wrong. When I called them fat I could hear some of them saying "douche!" after their joint expressions of horror, like the response I get when I am a speaker in the ancient days in a coliseum before a packed audience - I see myself as a firm old scholarly man, holding a written piece of paper before me as I took the podium. Then I said "I would like to declare that you are all fat" and my accompanying expression in doing so would be that of weariness, stoniness and even a seething breath of indignation beneath my face.

The crowd would then be shocked in silence.

They would look ritually helpless and peer at me frowningly thinking "how could he say that". Some of them would be quiet and angry, but I didn't care. Because whenever I call them out on this social ill, I don't just do so for the sake of talking. I actually mean I want them to reflect and improve. Now that the thought of them still insisting their horizontal excesses was right it angers me even more.

"Very fat!" I shouted in a blood-curdling manner. "Diet!!!!!!!!"

These fat asses would mostly get angry with the person instead of themselves and resolving to address the longstanding issue. As I predicted, they are incapable of critical thinking. When you are fat it means you eat too much, you have low self-esteem AND, you are unwell. Why settle for the Rufus standard and ill-treat yourselves I wonder.

Then I thought if they are all duds like they are they should then be harpooned as a form of sport. I was thinking if I should do it alone or there is more fun with friends. Well, I know this sort of instrument is designed to be used on those huge whales, but I've always also fantasised harpooning these fatties as I shake my right fist and shout at them over and over to start running and to run faster. I thought the idea is nice. I also know that I can run 2.4 kilometres in just a little over 9 minutes and they can't outrun me when I rush at them laughing and shouting like an ancient Olympian warrior holding a javelin for the hunt. A hunter, yes. Redefined with more interesting targets.

Well never mind, I think I'm crazy hahahaha.

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