Fat People Make Jesus Cry

Steppin'
Originally uploaded by kafkas_undies.

I am officially pissed. And not in my pants, thank you very much. I am pissed in a way well-suited for analogies that would invariably get me into trouble and I like my freedom, so I'll have to leave it there. Let it suffice to say that I am redefining anger and frustration as we speak. And the floor is shaking. It is shaking because a fat American (of course) is waddling around the office, her mammoth weight ensuring that every fiber in the industrial grade carpet knows she's here. This goes on as another one - this one also an American mammoth, albeit of slightly smaller proportions - is screaming to someone at the other end of this professional work space. And yes, it is necessary to define the setting in a no-frills-this-and-only-this-way because you never can tell what people forget. Mammoth B, for instance, completely forgot the meaning of both phone and email. She must have forgotten - for what other reason would one have for choosing shrieking as their primary mode of communication?

Add to this five dollar Walmart plastic shoes and what do you get? Flip-flopping. You know, the sound made when a three-quarter inch piece of cheap plastic hits the underside of a human foot. Now maybe I've been living beneath a rock - beneath a lovely piece of kyanite perhaps - but it is my understanding that the mere act of wearing flip-flops does not necessitate the flip-flopping noise otherwise known as white-trash-look-at-me-complex. But as I said, maybe I've been living under a rock. Maybe I missed the memo.