Friday, February 5, 2010

No Fats or Fems...shit

There is no phrase that I've ever read that makes me want to pluck my eyes out more in my life than: No Fats or Fems.


There are two types of people in this world: Fat and Non Fat people! The battle between the two are way past the most intense dance off in West Side Story!
I've often overheard, whilst walking down the street or sitting in a synagogue, people discussing important daily facts about the plus size or fat people in their lives.
"Marty, some people say more cushion for the pushin'!" "If there was a plane crash we would have a buffet off of your ass alone, ha!""Tamela, I bet you he floats good!"" I did my taxes on the 25Th of April."( that last statement just goes to prove that sometimes people aren't really listening to the conversation but just always willing to cosign)but I digress.

Everyone loves having a fat best friend, it's comfortable. Think about it, you've always got some body who makes you feel less guilty about eating that pepperoni pizza and that tub of ben and jerry's. I mean what are they gonna say, really? And we too understand our roles in the world. As a a plus size person I understand that I have many functions in relationships. I can serve as a buffer to someone coming out, I can be a date for a wedding, I am inevitably the surprise entertainment at any function (cause we're all funny) and I am always the go to for a great nite out on the town. See getting used to this concept will throw you if you've always been on the outside looking in, like I was before the slip and slide backslash life changing vomit track meet.


Dear gay men, life is not a real porn. Not every gay man is a tool belt wearing, fresh out of the Caribbean, macho acting, barry white voiced, foreign god of ecstasy.I bet half of those men are high pitched lisped challenged booty shorts midriff shirt wearing home decorating gays from Staten Island. They are putting on an act, like most of us do. Why, I will never know. There is nothing wrong with being fem. I know the common statement is if i wanted a woman i would have been with one,well let's be honest gentlemens, w omen won't let you drive down their hershey highway. And in the end, isn't that all that matters?(Get it, that was a joke!) Yet again, I digress. Your sexuality is your own. The most beautiful thing about being a gay man is that you have the choice, without any pretense, to enjoy both sides of the spectrum. You can watch a lacrosse match in stilettos and lipstick and have the time of your life. And no judgements,at least not from me.

We have too much division within our culture. Just because I'm fat doesn't mean that I'm not healthy, it means I may have just inherited whale genes from an obese grandfather and just because I'm a little fem doesn't mean that I'm not enjoying the great things about being purely masculine. Let's open up our minds, like we beg everyone else to do, and start finding the beauty in everybody.

Plussize Twink Out

Monday, February 1, 2010

Picture this....

A side ponytail. Dangling red earrings. Pink stilettos. A floral wrap dress. Inhale the sweet intoxication of cinnamon raisin oatmeal and rose perfume. Close your eyes and hear a melody deeply enriched in sunshine and dreams and prayers and pain. Listen very closely and you can even hear a slight giggle. Remember being able to see eye to eye with the doorknob and remember how huge you thought this sweet woman was who kissed you too much and held you too close and hugged you for too long and who stared at you while you slept and remember uttering the words, mama. These are some of my first memories of her.
Mama, i say over and over again, she turns and just smiles and simply says, "Hey puddin!" She turns back around and I wobble to her, I fall and look up to her immediately, she doesn't react, so I keep going. I catch her and I hold on to dear life. At her leg I feel safe and supported. I feel the smoothness of her skin, I inhale and remember the beauty of cocoa butter, and I feel my spit fall out my mouth and run down her leg and she says, "What are you doing, puddin?" I think at this moment, nothing is better than this. Before I know it I'm soaring through the air, and I laugh, oh I laugh so hard and she laughs and I laugh. Her face flies towards mine and mine towards hers and again and again until I'm nestled in her warm place between her arms. And she holds me there and we both take time to catch our breaths. I've gotten tired and a close my eyes and I rest. A fast thump beats in my ear and as it slows a hum fills the little holes on the side of my head. My little thump matches my mamas and I am fast asleep. I rest well because I know that when I wake up, she'll be right there to greet me. Smiling. Humming. Waiting. I like this lady. I can't wait to play with her again. As I fall deeper in sleep, angels float in front of my eyes and I giggle with them. The Big Man talks again and I laugh at his roar and before you know it, it's morning. The smile greets me again and i giggle, stretch and I blink.

Dear Weight Loss, you're RUDE

Today I was staring in the mirror, naked as the day I was born, surveying the ever changing campus that is my body, when I noticed the rudeness by which my fat is moving. I suck my stomach in, I almost pass out. I poke my belly out, I almost pass out, I make a muscle, I almost pass out, I'm thinking I should really take some breathing courses. I look from head to toe and do sort of a mental inventory. Face: more structured. Neck: slimmer. Shoulders: a lil more defined. Waist: smaller. Thighs: toner. Ass: higher and juicier (yes!!!) Man tits: OUT OF CONTROL.

Here's the thing: I know that God has a sense of humor: He created me! I believe after resting on the 7th day, He had a lot of built up cabin fever and said let me create something to make me giggle, and there I was. Now, I have somehow obtained, from the Big Guy, a perfect hourglass figure, a football player's height and thickness, a 40 year old woman's booty, and a young 18 year old's supple boobs, and a pleasant man surprise betwixt my legs. I can't grow facial hair rapidly and I'm perfectly hairless with a high voice and my mothers cheek bones: if you add all that up, you get perfect tranny! I may or may not have questioned my mother as to whether or not I had sexual reassignment surgery in my youth. She said: What's a reassignment? I said: You dumb, bitch! (...and that was the last time we spoke and the last time I had my own natural teeth)

I said all that to say this: Because of all these factors: I lose weight differently then most men. My shoulders slim, my waist does too, and i guess I've built up pecs in my workouts, therefore, the plump of the muscle underneath combined with the jiggle on top equals an increase of size from slightly embarrassing mounds to out right offensive cleavage. This has all been done in the name of weight loss and I personally, will forever and ever, call her a rude homeless trick!

I'll keep on trucking towards my goal of physical perfection but if this madness continues, fully expect a double mastectomy!