The marital perils of fat acceptance

Roissy beats on the blubbery with all the horror of a single woman flailing at an unusually large and hairy spider:
“Fatness is genetic. Fat chicks can’t do anything about it.”

Bullshit on stilts. See above graph. There’s no way fat crappery can increase that much in a population of hundreds of millions in the span of 25 years by genetic selection alone. The best the “fat gene” crowd can argue is that most humans are wired to put on excess weight in an environment of plentiful sugar-rich, high glycemic index carb food and sedentary lifestyles. That isn’t the same as saying fat people have fat genes rendering them immune to efforts at long-term weight loss.

What it means is that fatsos have to stop eating pastries and pasta, and start getting off their double wide asses and moving their limbs more than they do when reaching like an obese infant for a cookie on the kitchen countertop. The worst of them could begin their training by discarding the Walmart scooters for walking.
No fat gene hypothesis is needed to explain the growing army of lardbuckets and the shitty marriages they leave in their battle cruiser wakes. The answer is staring everyone in the face. The reason there are so many fat chicks in the world, and particularly in America, is because THEY CHOOSE THE PLEASURES OF FOOD AND IDLENESS OVER THE PLEASURES OF PLEASING MEN.

That’s it, fatties. You choose… poorly. 
I've seen far too many women in the forties, with between three and five children, who are MORE SLENDER than most of the college girls waddling about to believe that fatness is either genetic or uncontrollable.

Sure, it's difficult not to eat that second helping, to turn down that midnight snack, or to resist opening a new bag of cookies.  It wouldn't be called temptation if it wasn't tempting.  But even if resistance isn't easy, it is possible.

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