Sub Cute Anus Fat

gainer fiction and nerdy gainer thoughts

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[sub-cute-anus-fat]

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Here We Come

Better put a lock on your fridge

The nice one with an ice alcove in the door

In your kitchen you got decorated with a cohesive vision

And a breakfast bar

Better put it on before Saturday

10am

When your Ocado delivery comes

Coz what I’m saying is

Here we come

And we know your BMI

Is a perfect 22.5

But we seen that pavlova

And the custard that doesn’t taste like powder

What it is yeah

What it is

Is we been dreaming

Of a land of plenty

Rivers of milk and honey

Trees made of cheese

And a 7 day weekend

We been dreaming for a thousand years

But what it is yeah

What it is

Is you got on it

And you done one

The notion of a working class whose appetites are satisfied is repellent to you.

You turned hunger into gluttony

Exhaustion into sloth

Fat into stupidity

And somehow we got here

Never feeling sated without shame

Never rested without guilt

You made sure

If we ever got our utopia

We’d feel bad about it

But the thing is

This is what it is

The gainers are coming.

We’re fat and we’re hungry

And the thing is yeah

This is the thing

You can’t say nothing

You call us fat and we get horny

You tell us to diet and we get hungry

And you’ve been calling us

Big fat stupid slob greedy fat pig lose some weight go for a jog put the fork down jesus look at the size of you

For quite some time

And we just ran out of food.

So you better put a lock on that fridge.

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Lift Broke

I must’ve been stood here pawing at the button for 5 minutes before I’ve realised that the light aint going on and that means the lift’s broke. I’m stood here swaying in front of this broken lift, pendulous kebab weighted carrier bag knocking against my calf. Trying to work out what to do about it.

I only live on the first floor but for some reason I just can’t accept this version of reality where I have to take the stairs. The thought of the physical exertion just feels repellent to me. Can I really have not taken the lift for so long that I now can’t bear the thought of taking the stairs?

Finally convincing myself that there really is no other option than to take the stairs, and worrying that my kebab will get cold, I lumber towards the stairs.

I sighed as I took the first couple of steps, I just wanted an easy night after work- Nando’s, pub, kebabish, uber, home, eat, sleep. As I heaved myself upwards my legs pushed my stomach up in an unfamiliar way, I suddenly became aware that my shirt buttons were tight. At every step my buttons dug into my belly and my belly pushed out between my buttons. By the third step my shirt had come out of my trousers and was stuck up around my stomach, held in place by the last button. I started to sweat.

[sub-cute-anus-fat]

Benidorm

Sitting on the plane on my way to Alicante my belly wobbles with the hum of the engines. The flip-down table sticks into me holding me in my seat. Last year there was at least half the length of an in-flight magazine between me and the table. Now, after a year of working in London, the space between me and the edge is filled with gently shuddering fat, pinned in by the hard thin bit of plastic, encroaching on its surface by a couple of centimetres. The overpriced microwave pizza isn't as bad as I was expecting, but it's gone in a couple of bites and then I'm as hungry as before. I cannot wait to be back in Benidorm.