My formerly chunky, fat face I might add.
For full effect, download Weird Al Jankovic’s remake “I’m Fat” and play at maximum volume. You may also find it by clicking here.
I don’t get offended usually. I am a pretty easygoing guy. But if I have one more female walk up to me and make an attempt at complimenting my size, I might stick a sharpie highlighter up her nose or any other open orifice that I can find.
Model John V: “Say Brock, have you lost weight?”
Seizure Boy: Disturbed that my blood temperature has substantially increased by a 6-word inquiry. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
Model John V: “Yeah, you look good. Your face and neckline look like they’ve thinned out!”
Seizure Boy: Confused/Irritated/About to go William Wallace on this old hag. “Thinned Out?”
Model John V: “Yeah, you look great. Maybe now the ladies will start flocking to you!”
Seizure Boy: Hand shaking in my pockets while I mimic the violent shakings of an actual seizure, this time only holding back the unleashing of ‘Angry Seizure Boy’ upon her vertebrae. “Why thank you. Maybe they will.”
Cut to me drop-kicking a recently shaved poodle into an abandoned parking lot while pulling out fist-loads of hair and screaming out the words “SERENITY NOW!” in a Cosmo Kramer-esque fashion. Please Lord, let there be 22 computer monitors made in 1987 that I could bash to pieces with my elbow joints while I vent out my anger in such a dramatic fashion!
I look great?! I’ve lost weight?! My neckline has thinned out?! When’s the last time that you saw me Model John V, seven years ago? I mean I don’t do ‘The Regiment’ or anything, but for crying out loud did you mistake me for Fat Albert’s stunt double the last time that we met?
For the record, since July 2006, my 247-pound physical body has been the same size +/- 5 pounds (minus the malnourished month of brain surgery). Who have you confused me with? Drew Carey? Al Roker? Jared from Subway? Most people mistake me for Dane Cook, but that’s just because I’m a jerk, not because he lost a beached whale’s worth of blubber in six months.
Is the weight discussion a conversation pattern that women use when trying to compliment a man? Is the phrase, “Why, you look like you’ve lost weight?” an attempt at interaction which will be followed by “The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain.” (LTT) The last time that I checked, this is not a topic of discussion that men even care about. I don’t remember the last time that I walked into work and was greeted by J. Black Hairpiece or B.E.P. Longhorn complimenting me on how my thighs look smaller in my set of khaki’s. That would just be a violation of the bro code.
On the converse side of things, is it alright for me to walk up to a woman and ask her the same question?
Seizure Boy: “My, Model John V. You look terrific. Have you been going to the gym to dump some pounds?”
This phrase would be followed by a slap to the face, an embarrassed blush, plus a regurgitation of the biggest possible loogie that the woman could conjure up with procedure of discharging onto my face. And yes I did just use the word loogie. Thank you Nickelodeon from the 90’s.
One would NEVER bring up the topic of weight with a woman. It’s just not possible to get any progress in any type of relationship with a member of the female community if your topic of discussion is her weight. Yet it’s ok for a woman to constantly ask me if I’ve thinned out? This makes no sense!
I remember when I was 11 years old and my parents took me to a place called, “Gold’s Gym” in good old Roy, Utah. I was starting to figure out why people went to the gym and worked hard on their physical appearance. As we finished our workout, my mother questioned me about what I thought about her while we worked out.
Mom: “Son, when you see me in there, compared to all the other Mom’s that are in there, do I look pretty good? Do I look like I’m in shape?”
Me (Not yet Seizure Boy): “Yeah Mom, you look great.”
Mom: “Well, do I look…fat…in there?
Me: No Mom, you look fine. There are a lot of women in there that are fatter than you are.”
Cut to awkward silence for the ride home.
My reward for trying to compliment my mother in this situation: I was grounded for two weeks.