Code Words: HUSKY

Why is it that upon walking into a big & tall store the first thing one is likely to lay eyes on is a rack of shirts that say "Big DAWG" or "Big Daddy" these shirts are not only redundent (people know if you are a big guy already without a helpful sign) but they are offensive.

They take me back to a time when I was a kid. Most Big Guys started out in life as Big Kids. If you're like me then you may have had a hard time coping with the fact that not only did you look different from everyone else but you also had to slip into a size of clothing called HUSKY. Yes rather than have number sizes clothing was also divided and grouped with names. My name was HUSKY which I'm pretty sure is a type of dog or "Dawg" if you will.
This wasn't really something I was ever ashamed of but it did have side effects. It was the institutional idea that I could be labeled and that labeling was acceptable since it was helping me find jeans that fit. And so when people begin to reject their labels I say why? Did you ever have to buy pants according to you label? No? Then shut up and enjoy your label. I've been fitted with one and so must you so must we all. For as long as there are HUSKY pants there is a label out there and if you shed one you must be willing to shed them all.
HUSKY!

Breaking Chairs

Yes, unfortunately the fear of sitting in a chair and breaking it is a real and tangible fear for the Big Guy. It's happened to every Big Guy. Here's the scenario: You get to a cookout. There is a group of people there, most of whom you don't know that well. There may be that cute girl there you've had your eye on. After a while, your back starts to hurt (because you're a Big Guy) and you pick an unsuspecting fold-out chair to sit in. The problem is the chair is from 1974, rusted and rickety, and the host of the party didn't consider the Big Guy when he made this chair available to his invitees. So you sit in the chair, and the moment you allow all of your muscles to relax, you hear a crunch, or a crack, or a snap. You feel it start to collapse. Imagine something the size of 10 brontosauruses sitting atop one of the World Trade Center towers as it went down. Yeah, I know – not pretty imagery. But this can and probably has happened to almost every Big Guy out there at some point in their life. Of course there is no recovery. You have to retreat inside or leave altogether. It's damn near one of the most embarrassing things that can happen to a human being. It's grounds for moving to a different city if the incident was severe enough.  

In this post I will give you some solid tips to avoiding sitting in a chair and breaking it. 

1. The Abstinence Technique: If you see a chair or stool that looks like a stiff gust of wind could blast it to shreds, DON'T SIT IN IT. Trust me, just let your knees and back suffer, because nothing is more torment than breaking that thing and having to deal with the emotional suffering to follow. 

2. Type of Chair Rule: The old, metal, fold-out yard chairs with the interwoven straps for ass and back support are no good. Stay away. Anything metal, make sure it's relatively new. Old, wooden bar stools can be frail, too. Stick to newer chairs that don't have moving joints that can wear out or break under too much pressure. There is no sure-fire list here, just use your best judgement. If a chair looks fragile, trust your instincts – it probably is. 

3. The Sturdiness Test: If you think a chair is okay but aren't sure, give it the sturdiness test. Before sitting in it, grab the back of the chair in one hand and the front of the chair in the other and push down on it with a good amount of force. Give it a little wiggle as you do so. If it passes this phase, sit in the chair with half your weight. Then proceed to ease into the chair with the rest of your weight in small increments. If you start to hear it breaking, stand up immediately before the chair or stool is demolished. A half broken chair is better than a fully broken, collapsed chair. Just assume the chair was already broken by saying, "Who put out the broken chair? Ha ha! Good joke, guys!" 

4. Bring Your Own: Yes, it's that simple – bring your own chair. A sturdy, new, state of the art chair – one that can support 500 lbs or more. Just use the excuse, "You never know if there's going to be enough chairs, so I always bring my own." Or you can say, "My back is fucking with me, so I need my own chair." Whatever. You get the idea.

5. Help A Big Guy Out: If you see a Big Guy sit in a chair and the chair starts to give, stand up and tackle him full force. Yes, tackle him as the chair is breaking. That way you seem like two assholes who were horsing around and broke the chair instead of a fat guy who broke a chair by sitting in it. Yell out something stupid like, "Gilbert Brown! Grave Digger!" People will turn and laugh and be like, "You fucking guys!" It will be a real knee slapper ... and Big Guy catastrophe diverted. 

That's it. Follow these rules and I guarantee your chances of breaking a chair in public will go down by at least 80 percent. But these are just the rules I live by. If anyone has any others you can contribute, by all means, do so....

BGL (Big Guy for Life),

Joey Warnimont 

Code words: HOLY SHIT PORK SAUCE!

So, this is the code words section and the original code word was gonna be "Husky". However we will move that to another day because "HOLY SHIT PORK SAUCE!" has supra-ceded it.
Big Guys will be eating, through thick and through, uh, thick. We have this code, but damn it! We will be still eating. What do we eat? Chances are we will be eating something high in carbs and fat content. *Remember* this isn't a life choice. We want to eat Twinkies and shit because it's in our God Made DNA! I was thinking about this as I poured some Pork and Pork sauce into some rice. "Yes I do like this." I am not a vegetarian I'm a "guy who will eat the rest of that" kind of guy.
A guy who will indulge in Pork Sauce. And seeing as how this "code words" uh, word, is actually a phrase, possibly a sentence, there may be seconds.
Hmm, I hate when all you have drink is water! HEY JOEY! This is a new rule! Mark it!
Hey joey, that sounds X-mas,y...HEY JOEY HEY JUNIOR HEY SHITTY McGEE NOW DASHER NOW PRANCER and so on. BIG GUYS KEEP ON ROCKIN' THE SCALES!

Intellectual dishonesty and a love of all things tasty...

So, last night I was eating a huge helping of lasagna when a thought dawned on me: for my entire life, everyone who has said "you're not fat, you're just big" is an intellectually dishonest asshole. I mean, I know they meant well in not saying "yeah, you are fat, you tubby piece of shit!" or something to that effect. I know that they simply intended to spare my feelings. However, in "sparing my feelings", they were really being dishonest. Let's face it, everyone who is skinny calls fat people fat, either to their faces or behind their backs, mostly the latter.

As such, I take offense to this. If I wanted someone to sugar coat my shittiness, I'd ask, goddamnit! You can call me a fat, ugly asshole all you want, this is fine! Cthulhu (yes, Cthulhu, not God...Christianity is gay) knows that every jock, fratboy, and white gangster who had the balls to certainly called me fat. And as much as I fantasize every single day about the day when I finally stop caring about things and go back and systematically murder all those people, I also think there is some sincerity in their approach. After all, they were being honest in their thoughts. As shitty as it feels to me, it is the truth nonetheless: I am fat, I am ugly, I am undesirable to most women, and as a (generally) nice guy, I have almost always finished last in almost every respect.

However, with this honesty comes a sense of empowerment, as I now know that I can pretty much say whatever I want to anyone from here on out if they pull the "you're fat" card. Oh, I'm fat, am I? Well, you're a lousy Wop. I'm ugly? Well, cool: you're a fucking Ginger and I want to play "connect the dots" with your ugly spots. I'm obese? How about you're a fag? And I can go on from there. If one truth is OK, how is another not? The "truth" really is subjective, because to the 600 lb. man, I am skinny. To Clint Howard, I am beautiful. Everyone somewhere has it worse and sees things differently.

So, I am urging 100% complete intellectual honesty from now on.

With that said, everyone who ever called me fat is a gay retard and should be killed.

Rules 6-10 of Big Guy Code

Grocery stores. Yes, grocery stores. We're going to talk about them. 

6. If you see a Big Guy in a grocery store, move. He has the right of way. 

7. If there is only one Tombstone stuffed crust pizza left in the freezer and you see a Big Guy coming, don't even think of taking it, unless you want a flying forearm ala Brian Bosworth in Stone Cold. 

8. If you are a female wearing daisy dukes with your ass hanging out, a Big Guy may follow you around for about 10 minutes. There's something about exposed flesh in a cold supermarket. We want to eat you like a drumstick. Yummy!

9. If you are a cashier, I don't want to hear any shit about my selection of Taquitos, Skittles and chocolate milk. I will smash you on the top of the head with a closed fist, pancaking your miniscule body like an accordian. 

10. If you look at me like you look at rhinos at the zoo, I may just choke slam you. 

That's it and that's all. 

BGL (Big Guy for Life),

Joey Warnimont

Finding a Girl

Some Big Guys are lucky. They either have a girlfriend or are married. Some are not so lucky. They are faced with trying to find a woman in today's superficial, image-conscious society. I am one of the unlucky ones.  

Like my friend, Shitty McGee, I am not going to lie about my size. I am 6'6" and about 325 lbs. But hey, fuck you, I do have some muscle on me. I'm not one of those guys who look like Bruce Lee with 150 lbs of blubber added on. I'm basically like an out of shape offensive lineman: somewhere between chubby and fat, but with a large frame and some muscle in there somewhere. Let's just say, I don't have a warped sense of self image. I don't like to look at myself naked and I'm sure not many women would either, and I take that into consideration. 

Now let's flip that coin. Women, on the other hand, almost always have a warped self image. Women who find themselves in the same boat as me – somewhere between chubby and fat – almost always think they are God's gift to man and deserve a guy with 6% body fat and washboard abs. Basically, women who are fat think they're chubby, and women who are chubby think they're normal. 

I'll say one thing to you women out there with this attitude: GET FUCKING REAL!!! Let's face it. You're a little beyond chubby, probably have an annoying dog, watch stupid-ass TV shows, have an uninteresting profession, and are bad at oral sex. Not to mention there's a distinct possibility you might have a vagina that looks like an axe wound in the early stages of gangrene. [Side note to women: If you have one of those vaginas, it's probably better to go with bush rather than shaved, trust me.] In short, you are probably not as special as you think, and definitely not as hot as you think, and you should be giving Big Guys a shot. We'll treat you better than the douchbag hipsters you chase after and probably stick around longer because hey, what else can a Big Guy get?

But that's pretty bleak, I must admit. So let's explore what else you women are missing. Yes, I have a poor, Big Guy physique. But that means I am probably willing to do more things sexually than your average Mark Ruffalo wannabe. I won't go into details here, but Big Guys generally try harder to please a woman, because we feel we have to make up for our appearance. Sad but true. 

Also, unlike your average Fallout Boy wannabe dipshits, I have a soul. I like classical and traditional art, fine cinema, spiritual matters and can hold a conversation beyond "Entourage was so kick-ass last night. I so want to be Vincent Chase." 

But, I also like laughably bad movies, good horror movies and burritos. But no, I will never like bad or low-brow TV shows, sorry. 

Why aren't there any decent chubby/almost-fat women willing to take the Big Guy plunge? Come on in! The water's fine!

BGL (Big Guy for Life),

Joey Warnimont

If A Fat Guy Ran The World...

If a fat guy ran the world, there'd be no Big&Tall stores. All clothing stores would carry sizes for the larger gentleman all the time, because no fat guy wants to walk to different stores, searching for those pants that fit just enough to cover up the result of years of eating Doritos and Cool Whip out of the container.

If a fat guy ran the world, the Body Mass Index (BMI) would be adjusted so that it would be OK to be 6'2" and 340 pounds, like myself. Who the hell came up with the idea that someone who is 6'2" should weigh 180 lbs. anyway? Are you nuts? Seriously, I haven't weighed less than 200 lbs. since I was 12, and when I weighed 220, I wore size 34 pants and they were loose on me. I looked like a fucking Holocaust victim.

If a fat guy ran the world, all jokes comparing a fat guy to Santa would be met with a swift and bloody death at the hands of said fat guy. Fat guy justice means never having to say you're sorry for killing an asshole who thinks he's better than you just because he can run a mile. Skinny guys, always remember: the fastest human ever ran 34 mph, but even the weakest bullets travel much, much faster. And farther.

If a fat guy ran the world, there'd be absolutely no talk from airlines about making the larger seated gentleman buy 2 seats just to fly in a plane. FUCK THAT. If you want to see a plane get hijacked and crashed by a fat guy, killing hundreds of "innocent" people in the process, make him buy 2 airline seats. I dare you.

If a fat guy ran the world, nutrition facts would no longer be included on food. Why? Because I don't want to know what the fuck I'm eating. I just want to know if it tastes good. I don't count calories, I count on enjoying tasty things full of calories.

If a fat guy ran the world, chicks under size 8 would not be allowed to do porno. I'm dead fucking serious on this. If I'm ramming some chick from behind and I grab her buttcheeks, I'd better be able to squeeze something. If not, they can get killed. That's great that athletic girls with no tits, ass, or flaws exist. How wonderful, for those idiots who actually find that attractive. But to all those women out there wearing size 2 jogging pants and A cup sports bras, "enjoying" celery stalks because "it takes more calories to burn it than eat it", I say this: wouldn't you rather let a guy with hairy shoulders and a 46" waist, who hasn't gotten any measureable exercise since high school, plow you in the ass and then not be sorry about it afterwards? And wouldn't you like to cook a cheeseburger for that guy, too? Think about it...

If a fat guy ran the world...to be continued...