So some miserable cunt had a whole big post about "fat shaming." This is nothing new. The topic of fat and fat bashing is a recurring motive in that miserable twats blog.
Fat shaming happens all the time and has been bouncing around for years. People always have something to say. They want to tell you it is not healthy if you have a few pounds on your fat ass. They want to tell you it is because you have no self control or because you are lazy or whatever. Now that can be true but it could also be genetics or health related or that you just like to fucking eat and you don't think looking like you just got out of Auschwitz is a good look. To those people I have one simple thing to say: fuck you.
It gets really tiresome going over the same nonsense time and again. Opinions are like assholes. Everybody has one but we don't have to know about them.
James Gandolfini died of excess. He did lots of drugs, smoked, drank to excess and never exercised. You know what? He had a lot of fun in his life. Now he has to pay for it. It is that simple. You can celebrate his talent and his life. But keep your theories to yourself. And have another hot dog....because...tomorrow we die.
16 comments:
At the risk of sounding morbid or something, there are lots of folks who would trade places with Gandolfini, even knowing it would come with an early checkout. JFK, John Lennon, James Dean...the list could go on. Guys who lived fast and died young.
Small nobodies envy and judge others.
I'm still trying to learn to be content with the life I've been granted and striving to fill it with something other than shit and misery. Who has time to fret about how many doughnuts and chili dogs the neighbor is eating?
My oldest brother, whom I loved dearly, never smoked, rarely drank, didn't take drugs, was a Lt. Colonel in the 82nd Airborne and he died suddenly at the age of 54.
He did not watch what he ate, was married 4 times, was a brilliant and intense son of a bitch, but still, he only made it to 54. I miss him.
You just never know.
I was glad when I made it to 55, you know, just because, and all, but a week later I blew out my mitral valve and had to get open heart surgery. Now, 8 years later I am still here, raising hell, and guess what, if I want a shot of single malt or to smoke a stogie, I do.
Because you just never know.
In in my best Jersey way, if anyone wants to try and shame me, my reply is "SHAME DIS!"
One of my company's artists—a well-known flute player and teacher who is a supporter and who endorses our instruments—did a guest post on one of our blogs. We frequently post such online lessons, hints and tips from "our" players.
In any event, she included her publicity picture. It's a nice picture, but she's a woman of a certain size. She's lost weight lately, but she is simply not a small woman, never was and never will be. What did some asshole do for the second comment, but link to a weight-loss program? Our media maven, who does a wonderful job with our online presence, pulled the comment fairly quickly, but it was up long enough to offend.
WTF? Why do people think they have the moral right to push humiliating and offensive crap in people's faces who are already no doubt painfully aware of their shape? What should she do? Hide under a burka? She's a perfectly reasonable-looking person who is a professional musician and appears in public a lot. But she is not a size 3. And she probably couldn't play at all if she was.
I'm still trying to learn to be content with the life I've been granted and striving to fill it with something other than shit and misery. Who has time to fret about how many doughnuts and chili dogs the neighbor is eating?
That is filled with win.
You don't get to choose when you'll be born, and for the most part, you don't get to choose when you die. Be ready to go when it's your turn. And don't annoy others while you're here.
Who could you be referring to?
I wish Gandolfini was still with us. I feel bad for his 13 year old boy finding him. But I am pretty sure he could have given a fuck what a certain midwestern blogger. She will never go to to Rome because Meade can't drive her there.
The best revenge is living well.
From "shat faming" to fat shaming is but a small step.
What goes around comes around...
Evi, LOL about the driving Miss Annie. Being libertarian, all of this "should" horseshit is an anathema to me. We choose how to live our own lives and it's nobody's fucking business. If you don't like it, go shit in your hat!
Two drinks is my limit. Not because more than that is "wrong." Because more than that and I lose balance. It's reported that Gandolfini had eight drinks the night he died. Not saying that had anything to do with his much too early death. Maybe it did maybe it didn't. What's stunning, to me anyway, is the capacity to hold eight drinks and function. And yes he was a big guy and yes he was eating. Still. People have incredibly different physiologic or physiological capacities. Why that should still stun me after all these years I don't know. But it does.
ricpic, Drinking is not much a part of the Jewish culture. Actually, Jewish attitudes toward drinking are similar to Italians, just a little more conservative. It mostly revolves around wine w/ a meal.
I can remember when I worked for the NYC Welfare Department, this was like a million years ago, anyway, there was a fireplug or firehydrant of a guy, 120% Irish, who I got to know slightly and one day apropos of nothing in particular he said "How do you people stand it, what do you do with yourselves with no bar to go to to get away from the women and get blotto?" Good question.
I'll just say it again. He was a former cocaine user and that stuff DESTROYS your heart.
He was also a smoker. But people like to focus in on the food and drink. For some reason.
Life is a trade-off. We could all drink mineral water, eat brown rice and veggies and live forever. Unless we died of boredom.
Jews tend to drink less than Italians, but both tend to be moderate in alcohol consumption (it is bad form to be drunk).
Russians frown on public drunkenness, but try to pretend to be sober while having a dozen drinks.
The Irish drink whiskey out of cereal bowls.
And you have not lived till you have seen Scandinavians (especially Finns) and an open bar. They put a shark or piranha feeding frenzies to shame.
I liked James Gandolfini. I am sorry we lost him. I wish he was still with us.
You can live anyway you want. Every decision has consequences. But a big factor is chance: You can be a teetotaler and get hit by a drunk driver and be just as dead. You can be David Crosby and get bumped to the head of a list for a liver (oh wait, that was probably not chance).
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