Showing posts with label fatty does. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fatty does. Show all posts

Tuesday, 22 March 2011

Fatty does....Glee?

Now generally being too preoccupied with the contents of her fridge, Fatty here was a little late to get onto the Glee bandwagon. But like all things cheesy, it found its way onto her plate and the inner gleek has caused mayhem to the neighbours (and her joints! Ouch!)

Fatty’s uncle has the most inconvenient, irritating and noisy neighbours; slamming doors and what not at unsociable hours. What better revenge than a little late night (by this I mean roughly 3am) sessions of glee karaoke? Often this is Soco (Southern Comfort and Coke) fuelled, meaning more gusto and extra ceiling thumping dance moves. Because of course, where you have cheesy singing, you simply must have cheesy dancing.

Now this would be an appropriate time to mention I categorically cannot sing, cannot dance, cannot hold any kind of rhythm what so ever. But like a few extra pounds, why should that stop you anyway?

The show itself celebrates all things lingering on the social outskirts; a place many fatties find themselves condemned to. And just like the glee losers, I mean kids, do why not stick two fingers up to adversary, or lack of talent, or lack of a waistline and go for it anyway!

Life is too short (and according to all the health buffs, fatty lives are even shorter) to wait for the perfect body/ voice/situation to have a whale of a time. So whether it’s a go on karaoke, a crack in the shower or a midnight version of “Don’t stop believing” on the sofa with a hairbrush, unleash the inner gleek and enjoy. You never know, you may have an inner Mercedes lurking in there somewhere...

Word of caution: excessive obsession in the world of glee can cause a sore throat, sore knees and uncontrollable singing on the underground where the commuter next to you will tell you to be quiet (embarrassingly true).

Saturday, 13 March 2010

Welcome to Fatty does...

So what do you do when you’ve the childish enthusiasm of a three year old on speed but trapped inside the body of Nelly the elephant? Well the answer is you carry on anyway! And then shamelessly flaunt the comedy value of the moment when size really does matter. Welcome to the blog of “fatty does...”, a true life account of those cringe worthy moments when the mind is willing but the body is barely able. So here is proof of the pudding (mmmm pudding) that no matter what your shape, you should never let the jelly stop you jingling!