Wednesday 15 February 2012

More Chins Than A Chinese Phonebook...


America is famously the arena for insanely fat people. Not only is the morbidly obese welcomed - in some cases they are CATERED FOR.

A recent story caught my eye- well it couldn't help catch my eye, it was almost everywhere I looked- featuring a very fat man, in a Las (Johnny)Vegas restaurant so aptly, or ironically, named, "The Heart Attack Grill".

The unnamed fatso had to be rushed to hospital after suffering a cardiac arrest while eating a 6,000 calorie 'burger to die for'- You couldn't make it up.

No, you really couldn't. You'd need 86 rashers of bacon and about a herd of cattle.

This multiple chin beast had ordered what is probably perceived, in famine stricken Ethiopia, as a year of food. The menu in this gaff consists of "Single", "Double", "Triple", and "Quadruple Bypass" hamburgers. The hospital themed restaurant has waitresses entitled "nurses" and takes orders, otherwise known as "prescriptions", from the customers AKA "patients"- or as we'd know them, proper fat bastards.

The paramedics must have thought someone was taking the piss:

"Hi, yeah, is that 911?. We've got a patient here who nurses understand has had a recent quadtruple bypass" they would exclaim.

"He's suffered a cardiac arrest after eating a 'burger to die for', can you come at once??.."

"Erm, how's about you stop fucking about and making a mockery of our service? Over". The ambulance staff would reply (in a yank accent).

However, the emergency medical personnel did rush to the scene and, upon arrival, stretchered out the lard swigging customer, believed to be in his 40s, into an assisting Arctic lorry- only for the wheels to burst and his rampaging gut to spill out on to the pavement.

Owner Jon Basso was naturally sympathetic, "The gentleman could barely talk. He was sweating, suffering."

"I actually felt horrible for him because the tourists were taking photos of him as if it were some type of stunt."

HA. You felt sorry for your newest Mount-Burger-Kong whilst you charged a few excited Japs $15 per photo -oooooh, I detect such sincerity. Last year the restaurant ran a promotion offering a free meal to any customers weighing over 25st -Gillian Mckeith would shit herself with angst.

Alas, it's not only America...


Simon Stocky, who can't be named for legal reasons, got stuck last year while trying to exit from a shop in Manchester City Centre. The svelte doughnut addict only wanted to come in to buy some XXXL hats for knee warmers - but was thwarted by the store's preposterous 1.5m doorway. The gravy sweating kebab hunter explained:

"It was like something out of a comedy program. Like Porridge or something. It was like Father Ted. Only with me... and a door... and without priests or the Irish."

Now let's get something very very clear here big boy.

First of all, despite it being obviously top drawer comedy, in Porridge, they were locked up and didn't get the chance to ransack their tuck shop of Cadbury Creme Eggs to the point of gluttony.

Secondly, I'm Irish and I know they endured an awfully long famine, which reduced their national average weight to nearly nothing. Don't start picking examples out of genuinely thin people to justify your gargantuan girth and resulting failure to escape out of Topman, you fat fuck. Maybe if you removed the preservatives and additives from that statement you might start speaking sense.

The next statement is also as calorie drunk as the last:

"I was mortified. It was like a horror film. It was like being at the circus. My lawyer expects that I could get thousands, which is a lot of money. Then I'd be rich and that would be like Dynasty or Dallas or something."

Yes, circus. An entirely appropriate classification for a consumer of your circumference. The only thousands you should be getting is with the hundreds on your 99,999,999p flake, delivered by an Olympic sized fleet of specially designed ice cream vans. In a further injection of truth, the nearest you'll be getting to Texas is Dallas Fried Chicken on the High Road.

He went on to make this chubby conclusion:

"You'd think they would make the doors in these shops normal size, instead of really thin. It was a disaster waiting to happen. And it happened to me when I got stuck in the doorway."

The only disaster, my spherical chum, will be if you happen to plant both epic thighs down simultaneously, therefore putting the poor people of South East Asia through another suffering cycle of quake and tsunami.

As you can get a strong range of grub delivered to your door, my advice is, stay the fuck at home.

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