nunoncastors

As a rotund chap myself, I’m sensitive to the plight of people who gorge their lazy arses on food until they’re so full you could roll the fuckers down a corridor and make Indiana Jones shit himself in fright. I tend to think that if some people want to eat themselves to death like Pizza the Hutt then they’re entitled to do so just as long as they never ask for my help in any way. I tend not to mock.

However, there’s a woman in the building in which I work that resembles a small planet. A kinder man would perhaps say a large moon, he’d be an idiot, she’s vast.

For example, the lifts here are supposed to be able to hold eight people. That’s eight. When she gets in though, you can only accommodate three, at a push four, her included. That’s right; she occupies the space of six people. SIX PEOPLE. She has the equivalent mass and volume of my football team.

I know it’s cruel, I know I shouldn’t, but every time I see her I can’t help thinking that somewhere out there a dozen people are starving because she’s had their share.