Hi-fructose drama-nation (AKA Plebeia Ovulation-Jones), clad in a rumpled football shirt and golden sweatpants, rolled her bovine eyes, burped, then plunged into battle in the Walmart parking lot. Overweightia U.S, looking on, gestured rudely while blabbing on her phone.  America herself, standing by, talked loudly, swiveling her fat neck around with a menacing gesticulation involving her two-and-a-half-inch poisonous green fake fingernails studded with tiny rhinestones in the shape of well-known designer logos. Witnesses claimed that the altercation started when America could not find her own thong, which was lost between mountains of cellulite-rippled sweaty rolls of flesh. Splendor Obeeze, her BFF, trying to get America away from the fight scene, mooed like a feral heifer, then barked at her ex, who proceeded to taunt her while filming with his I-phone:
      Woo ooh-ooh baby Ima get wit chu den do like u cause we rollin, rollin...
Plebeia suddenly snarled at her 3 year-old daughter strapped into a car seat to leave her **** alone and then re-entered the store where she proceeded to sing to herself in the brassiere section until she bumped into her 4th toddler's baby-daddy who was mumbling into his thick beard RE tha lightweight herb he smoked wif his boy as he checked his text messages for  the freestyle lyrics by "L'il Murgatroid". The entire affair ended badly when Plebeia spilled corn-dog flavored popsicle powder all over America's thong-retrieval device. WW IV warning apps were triggered. They beeped, were ignored, failed and then were deleted. No one shouted World Staaar—u see dat? Oh shiiiittt !!
Plebeia O-J was oblivious, in any case, and strode boldly into the Walmart pharmacy section as the predatory drones prophesied in Revelation were released from the bottomless pit by Abaddon, Lord of destruction. Fabulously overweight as well, I was, nonetheless, underwhelmed by the thong itself, when it was finally retrieved from the depths of America's rumpled sweatpants, on the buttocks of which was emblazoned the final terrible message:  PINK UNIVERSITY   BITE ME.

my subject, mrs. ((brown?))
for this speech is
going to be: obesity. ish.

you see I remember
the article you handed out to us,
loos-leafed,
fresh-pressed,
a dry white piece that told,
in simplest terms,
the most inarguable & bland facts
about !healthy eating & !weight loss!

but mrs ((whatever)), I want
to tell n and the entire
******* crisp class,
that obesity is a load
of steaming ****
from someone who’s really fucki
ng sick (you know how much
better it stinks then)

that obesity
was made to be glorified,
I don’t tell you this—
I ****** jiggle it to you,
grab my santa clause puch and
shove it at you--

tick tock
we wait for the clock
to tell us what
s to come,
except it makes us guess

--see this:
a mid-age woman, mother,
fat & previously fat,
goes in for stabbing pain in the chest, or
chronic diarrhea,
seeing stars & no energy left.
((this happens))
the doctor says,

well let’s weigh you n see
if you’ve lost
the weight I told you to lose before
remember Sharol

now Sharol..,,,, sweety…..
you weigh 55.62 lbs over the
state-set “healthy limit”k,
so we’re just gonna give u these
diet pills & I promise they work,.
all nach-yer-awl u see, none of that
waterweight ******* [! excuse my language]

and in about 3 months you’ll lose
half that overweight,
and I promise the starsll go away and you’ll
feel right tip top okay now that’ll be
$60 & come bac k in a month to tell me
how much you’ve lost okay

haha but that’s alrightright?
she was unhealthy
&
doctors make you healthy

only her brain cancer maybe, or like, colon
cancer or literally anything other obesity

kills her in about 3 months
bc the **** doctor would only
pretend that she cared
what
was
wrong with Sharol, sweety…,,,

im sharol and so are you and
so is your uncle & so is
your mother, probably
because most of us are “obese”

& the only cure for obesity
is the cure for the term
“obesity” you see

I like to wear tiny shorts
On my big fat ****.
And little tiny tops to make
My ***** look big.
But if I catch you staring at me
And ogling my *******
I’ll suddenly get all proper on you
And call you a pig.

Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder
I run with a very different pack.
So don’t come crying on my shoulder.
I’ll tell you to step your *** back.

I love my hair bleached orange
With lots of dark roots.
I keep it long, and badly cut
Then wear a pony tail.
I walk like a linebacker
On the scrimmage line.
I think I look extremely cool
Like I just got out of jail.

Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder
I run with a very different pack.
So don’t come crying on my shoulder.
I’ll tell you to step your *** back.

If I wear a hat it is a stocking cap
And some boots I stole from a boy.
It all goes well with raccoon eyes;
The makeup makes it work.
I am so **** hot that I am sizzling.
If you object you are jealous.
So, I ignore your comments and sneers.
You must be a bunch of jerks.

Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder
I run with a very different pack.
So don’t come crying on my shoulder.
I’ll tell you to step your *** back.

I kept a screen
Before my mind,
To re-run clips
Of your fine lines.
Glad for new-age technology,
The IMAX use of 3D;
I'll use the big screen monolith
To screen the edit
Of your breadth and width.

Remeber you're not here to eat
You're here to survive
You're fat I know
And that's alrite

Get on your feet
and do the drill
Since too long
You've been chill

It's now or never
or you'll lose control
So push it my friend
And don't be an *******

You think you know
Where you're headed
Just look around
And you'll dread it

You're not in pain
And you think it's good
Get on your feet
and be worthy of the food

For too long
You went with the flow
It's time now
To rise
Shine
And glow

A long, long time ago, I can still remember when,
Junk food made me smile,
And I knew if had my chance,
That I could make my fatness dance,
And maybe I was happy for a while.

But McDonald's made me shiver,
With every burger they'd deliver,
Bad news on their doorstep,
I couldn't take one more step.

I can't remember if I cried,
When  I passed size twenty-five,
But something touched me deep inside,
The day I knocked back obesity fries,
CHORUS.
So, bye, bye McDonald's French fries,
Drove my  chevy away from McDonald's,
didn't have a bevy,
I said goodbye to whiskey and rye,
Singing no more apple pies,
That's the end of obesity fries.....

Did you  go to McDonald's biomes?
Did you know you're  changing your genomes?
Eating all those pesticides?
Now do believe they love you, guys?
Might as well eat dead flies!
And can you change evolution in real time?

Well, I know you're addicted to them,
You'll need more than treadmills in the gym,
Now can't even put on your shoes,
Man, you'll dig the obesity blues,

CHORUS.

I was an obese teenage bronco buck.
Driving to McDonald's in a pickup truck,
But I knew I was out of luck,
The day I ate landfill in those French fries...

I started singing bye, bye obesity fries,
Drove my chevy, had no bevies,
And the burgers were dry,
This is the day I knock back French fries.

CHORUS.
I met a girl who sang the blues,
She'd passed turning size twenty-two,
I asked her if she ate junk food too,
She just smiled and drove away,
I drove down to the store no more,
Where I ate additives years before,
But the junk food store didn't care anyway...

CHORUS
CHORUS....

triggery diggery dock
the tumblrina ran up the clock
but fell down because obese


patriachry