Desperately Seeking Sympathy
Help me, lefties!
This is a true story. While walking along Lambton Quay, a woman holding a bunch of Weight Watchers magazines held one out and asked: "Excuse me, would you like a free copy, Sir?" Well that's what she said, but what I heard was: "Hey you fat b*stard, if you'd try shutting your KFC-stuffing pie-hole for a change, you wouldn't need this magazine."
Needless to say, I was horrified at such impertinent insensitivity. I knew not whether to storm off in an huff, to thunder with indignant outrage, or collapse in a puddle of tears. The encounter has robbed me of all dignity, and left me feeling disempowered. Surely this makes me a 'victim'. Oh, lefties! Please feel my pain! As I'm the size of two ordinary fellas combined, I feel doubly 'oppressed' - thus worthy of twice as much sympathy.
Can you help, lefty? Will you seek social justice for us flabulous folk, who are (quite literally) the most 'visible' minority. We're such a big target for prejudice (and I mean 'big'). I'd appeal to those mean, callous right-wingers, but they'd just tell me to diet, exercise, and get over myself. Surely the left would never dismiss the downtrodden. So I implore lefties everywhere: can you please wear a coloured ribbon (size XXXL, of course. And preferably black - it's a slimming colour) to raise awareness for the heavy burden we bear.
Please lefties! Will you speak truth to power? Will you speak up and speak out for me? For I - disenfranchised and marginalised - feel I no longer have a voice (or rather I'm much too busy eating, and far too polite to talk with my mouth full).
I'll reward the first lefty to champion my cause with a box of chocolates
(well, half a box, actually. I couldn't resist swiping all the yummy soft-centred ones...)
Help me, lefties!
This is a true story. While walking along Lambton Quay, a woman holding a bunch of Weight Watchers magazines held one out and asked: "Excuse me, would you like a free copy, Sir?" Well that's what she said, but what I heard was: "Hey you fat b*stard, if you'd try shutting your KFC-stuffing pie-hole for a change, you wouldn't need this magazine."
Needless to say, I was horrified at such impertinent insensitivity. I knew not whether to storm off in an huff, to thunder with indignant outrage, or collapse in a puddle of tears. The encounter has robbed me of all dignity, and left me feeling disempowered. Surely this makes me a 'victim'. Oh, lefties! Please feel my pain! As I'm the size of two ordinary fellas combined, I feel doubly 'oppressed' - thus worthy of twice as much sympathy.
Can you help, lefty? Will you seek social justice for us flabulous folk, who are (quite literally) the most 'visible' minority. We're such a big target for prejudice (and I mean 'big'). I'd appeal to those mean, callous right-wingers, but they'd just tell me to diet, exercise, and get over myself. Surely the left would never dismiss the downtrodden. So I implore lefties everywhere: can you please wear a coloured ribbon (size XXXL, of course. And preferably black - it's a slimming colour) to raise awareness for the heavy burden we bear.
Please lefties! Will you speak truth to power? Will you speak up and speak out for me? For I - disenfranchised and marginalised - feel I no longer have a voice (or rather I'm much too busy eating, and far too polite to talk with my mouth full).
I'll reward the first lefty to champion my cause with a box of chocolates
(well, half a box, actually. I couldn't resist swiping all the yummy soft-centred ones...)
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