You Big Fatty

Heath and lifestyle blog for people who struggle with KFC, cigarettes and booze

Month: March, 2014

Sexual Therapist


Today didn’t start very well. I began my day rushing out the door after shaving my neck beard only to step in a small dog poop. See below. Rushing to my physiotherapist I was stuck in traffic. After making a break for it I witnessed an accident between a small car and a motorbike, everyone was ok but the bystanders heart missed a skipped a beat. Quickly my dog turd incident was forgotten and my appointment was nearing its deadline. I made it 4 minutes late and entered the room of hotness and back cracking.


I have recently discovered I have a very mild back condition called Scheuermann’s disease which means I have a stiff back and rib cage. I feel this title really exaggerates what is going on. I call it stiffness. I now have to work on my flexibility which is according to the man, ‘you’re on top of the bell curve of flexible, you being not flexible’. I’m ok with this. The older I get the more I have come to realise that health professionals don’t really have the answers or treatments, instead they just have a great sales pitch. This gentleman massaged my back in all kinds of ways as though I was a slab of meat, cracked my neck like a bond movie extra then patted me on the ass and said I was in good nick. I left feeling somewhat relaxed and left wondering…


My physiotherapist was chiselled by the hand of a homosexual man during the renaissance who has just returned from a trip in Africa. The physio revealed he was 45, this guy looked like a 22 year old American football player. I was astonished so I asked, ‘’what’s your secret’’ – this guy’s body is out of control, there wasn’t a wrinkle on his face – he replied, “I just eat the right thing and look after myself”. I personally think it has something to do with his cotton picking heritage, they out there in the sun working hard, being oiled for show and only short time ago having to survive against harrowing odds. Whereas the white generations have been stuffing pies into their faces and sitting down for way too long. Mmm? I don’t know how cool it is referring to my physios heritage by comparing the atrocities of slavery to try and justify the foundations of building a better genome. I’m going to run with it for now because he was an Adonis who charge $78 for 20 minutes, the past is over and the future is looking good for this guy.


Does a great six pack need to have some kind of fear and/or torture associated for great results? I know the window washing junkies have dynamite six packs. They weave between traffic, run from police and put their bodies through punishing injections of drugs. Look at any non-food related addiction. Most of these people have killer six packs, gym junkies, super models, street sweepers ect. What is it going to take? I have had to stop wearing a belt in the office because of my heavy load do I need to kidnapped for results? Or even swap my sandwiches for crack-cocaine? Oh why are you so cruel Jesus? You had a wash board stomach but even you must have had your vices and stress to keep your rags looking great.

Sex lives of bodybuilders.


Over the weekend I was lucky enough to go to a body building competition. For a hour I was drawn into a world of extreme discipline, disappointment, adulation and spray tans. Body builders look like KFC. Golden brown, textured and greasy. Body building compititions are like gay bars. Modern dance music, colourful flashing lights, lasers, smoke machines and even a bubble machine. Then the men come parading out with their short shorts (beach body competition) or there spangled underwear, red was my favourite. The show was amazing, the crowd excited, the food cryovaced and the protein was bio-available. Amazing. I have never seen wasteline so refinded in all my time. The clear winners of the heats stood out, like in a bucket of chicken – you just know which one is going to be the best. With no room for coleslaw your only chance to wash down this visual delight was quarter turn and avoid laughing too loud. With a gung-ho crowd screaming out “go 105” you start to wonder if at dog and cat shows have the same amount of energy. My chicken bucket list grew bigger as my imagination drew beautiful imagery of middle aged overweight cat ladies (men included) standing between rows of chairs barracking for pedigree kitties on stage too docile to escape or at least hiss trying.

I had to drag myself away to have a cigarette. Outside of the competition I was surprised by the amount of smokers, some who looks as though their days of body building had long gone, others you could see their perfect physics rippling through their tight, heavy metal or wu-tang band t-shirts. I know body building isn’t about cardio but why can I have a body of my dreams and punch a few darts? Does it take complete fascination to look like this? Do we need to have calorie counting watches synced to heart monitor straps around our torsos to achieve Adonis status? What answer appeared to be most prevalent was, fitness waits in no fast food line and smoking and BBQ sauce is ok.

So before you run to your local sporting store and order your black band shirt, be aware of the what it takes to be consumed with body image, to get up on stage with your spray tan. You are going to be hungry. You are going to be thirsty. You are going to have to make sure that you use the correct colour of spray tan and not end up looking grey or blue. And ask yourself, are you going to be the guy with the shiney jocks or the guy choose the muted colour? Will you be completing your tan or leaving your face as white as ghost intended?

My inspiration has been mindly increased however I know what limits us from perfection. It is how absorbed we are with outside persuasions being, sex, drugs, facebook, television or work. What is it that makes a man or woman go to such extremes without improving actual fitness? Drinking so much water then starving and dehydrating one’s self to compete on a day, clad with body bronzer to be hero worshiped by your peers and other perverts? I’m confused, is that a good thing? Perhaps we need to be more specific when setting our fitness goals. Can the fitness gods be confused when we pray, “I want to be fit and healthy”. Do the gods compare this to the general populous? With 786 million people without access to clean water and 2.5 billion people without sanitation is the western world healthy enough in their eye? By way of specifics should we be asking the divine rulers to be hungry goldern fitness models? And should we be requesting to for the restraint to pass on KFC and/or frozen delights?

Life’s tough kido. Calorie counting gets dull and low blood suger has never been a recreational drug for a reason – its boring.

Sorry about the delay guys. I have actually been busy.