We all know what a fag hag is right? How could these species that try so hard and fail so well not be known to all of mankind? Is it any wonder that Aberdeen’s ‘premier’ (that’s false advertising by the way) gay bar burned down? With all that hairspray the fag hags who’d be better suited in grab-a-granny bars use to tease their large quiffs and the cheap perfume they splash on way too liberally it’s no wonder the place went up in flames with all that fumes hanging around the place like a case of pubic lice. Fag hags are even harder to shift than any infestation and in a gay bar constitute about 70% of the population. That’s a lot of stupid boobs and Bananarama hair. Oh I forgot to mention before that Castros burned to the ground and I’m not allowed to say anything like ‘insurance jobs’ either. But that’s beside the point. But, you will be glad to hear that fag hags aren’t really my issue for today because I’ve ranted enough about them before but I will add that I’m beginning to understand their plight of wanting something you can’t have. I’d love a stuffed crust pizza with extra cheese and mushrooms right now and I can’t have one – not because my overly large belly can’t accommodate one at this time of day cause we all know it could but because I have zero funds with which to spoil my hungry gut. Actually I have come to realise that fag hags who so desperately want to fuck their gay male friends are no different than my ‘straight girl’ fantasies which have been so prominent in my life since my primary school teacher told me I was pretty. Getting away from my point again, I want to talk about ‘flab hags’ today. While gay men have been known to hang out with ancient women in a bid to make themselves look good and while fag hags hang out in gay bars because they think they look better than the lesbians and can wear small clothes with cellulite on show without hassle, flab hags are those people who hang out with people larger than themselves in an effort to make themselves look slimmer. I have had this feeling throughout my life that that’s why people hang out with The Fee cause anyone would look good when placed next to me. Isn’t it so disappointing when you buy an item of clothes that you think best conceals your rings of flubber only for your best, much slimmer mate to purchase something similar only to look 14 stone lighter and 10 times better? I tell you it’s the worst feeling in the world. And what’s even worse than that is the fact that they are thinner AND have better boobs than you. Chubby does not automatically equal big shapely tits that are firm to the touch and sagfree. That’s why I have been trying to work on my personality, as you can probably tell by the content of this weblog it isn’t working. But I had that theory that if I was a great, fun person to be around then my skinnier than skimmed milk mates would be shunned into the background while I stole all the glory and let them bask in mine for once. Maybe I will become a flab hag myself and then I wouldn’t feel so guilty tucking into full fat food dripping with full fat sauce as skinnky friends peck on a salad and sip on slim coke. Oh to be less insecure. Oh to stop thinking about melted cheese and pies.
Listening to: Space Cowboy I would die for u