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BELLY BOY reporting from Pheonix
Hey everybody! It’s belly boy time!
I just landed in Phoenix, and man are my calves tired! This piggy CAN FLY! Oink oink oink!
Fat Bastard: Yes, Belly Boy I bet those calves are mooing and those dogs are barking and yes pigs can fly accept of Southwest Airline according to NAAFA
But man, traveling was quite an ordeal! Thanks to the new security requirements, I had to either go through the body scanner or get a manual scan. However, I cannot fit through the scanner machine, so I had to be manually searched, which was very erotic. He had to lift and prod each fold, searching for contraband, and he looked incredibly disgusted the entire time. They called in a rookie to do it since none of the more senior ones wanted to deal with me. It took a long time to search me completely, and I was making small talk with him.
Fat Bastard: I doubt that the TSA rookie was disgusted. I suspect that he was in awe and that the senior TSA officials were giving him the honor of frisking the great Belly Boy. Those guys read Bigger Fatter Blog to get the skinny on fat.
Bariatric wheelchair AKA a fatling’s rolling thrown. |
I had to be pushed in a bariatric wheelchair most of the time, since I am not yet capable of walking very far, only a few dozen yards at a time. But I was able to stand up to be searched. Yeah, I hadn’t washed in over a week, so I was pretty ripe when he searched me. That was part of my goal, if they’re going to search me then they might as well have to do it the hard way, aka the smelly way, aka the belly boy way.
Getting on the plane, I took up more than two full seats, and they booted me and Big Lard Ass off of the plane because they said I need 3 seats and Big Lard Ass needs 2 seats. That means we couldn’t sit next to each other either, which was really upsetting. I started panicking because they at first said that only I was getting booted and BLA could stay, because I can’t travel alone! So I put up a huge colossal stink, yelling and whining as much as I could, before finally they relented and agreed to bump us up to first class for the next flight.
Fat Bastard: My dad had a friend named Ray. Ray was a fucking load. He had to be 600+. Ray was a successful business man and in Ray’s office becasue he could not fit in a conventional office chair he had a love seat hoisted on cement block. Man did he look regal. When Ray flew they would hoist him up through the cargo doors of the plane. That was before planes had doors big enough. That had to be so fucking cool!
BLA could fit in a first class seat, but I couldn’t. I need 3 full coach seats, so we got bumped yet again, with BLA getting a free coach seat, and me getting 2 free coach seats plus 1 coach seat I had to pay for. I asked for and got triple snacks, and it was pretty cool. BLA got tons of free food, and I ordered 9 beers in total before they cut me off.
Rev Big Lard Ass before he and Belly Boy were booted. No picture of Belly Boy available. |
Then we got into Phoenix and checked into a hotel, and now BLA is out getting us some take-out while I sit and type this on his laptop. He’s such a good friend to me, and I can’t wait to experience the glory of the Heart Attack Grill, and it’s delicious and delectable Quadruple Bypass Burgers. They are quite awesome, and I am so effing excited about this.
I wish that Candy Apple was a computer company. The computers would have special food tubes in them for you to suck on while you use the computer, and then you would be able to get delicious food while you used your computer.
Fat Bastard: Belly Boy, I do know that Dr Gerald “Teddy” Bear is working on a moob top computer. I am waiting for the days when they have food replicators like on Star Trek. Imagine being able to say, Computer make me a Belly Boy Burger, Flat Liner Fries and tea early grey– hot.” and poof there it is. That would be so fucking cool!
This technology would make me, Belly Boy, a billionaire. They would call me Steve Careers. Or Bill Portcullises if I invented the “Pie on the Windowsill” operating system, which would gobble up market share like an SSBBW gobbles up the man pudding of FAs at a NAAFA convention.
Fat Bastard: Belly Boy, you are indeed onto something.
Oink oink oink. Anyway I am excited and thrilled about my upcoming culinary adventures. Hopefully they will go well. But I do think they will go well, I am planning on staying there pretty much all day just eating, eating, eating, eating, and eating. I have several thousand dollars with me for beverage purposes, so I should be set on that front. It’s going to be an epic feast, and I only wish that Teddy Bear, Fat Bastard, and Proud FA could be with me for this event. Also Rotunda Hindenburg, and some of the other female contributors to the Bigger Fatter Blog.
Fat Bastard: Belly Boy, I have Rotunda on the other line and she is slobbering drool all over the phone just thinking about it. Proud FA wants you to set a new record. Teddy maybe on sabbatical or he is off fighting the good fight. He maybe a Teddy Bear but he has some sharp teeth and claws.
If I’m lucky, maybe one of the waitresses/nurses will invite me back to her place for a little intensive care, if you know what I mean! (But I’m not counting on it. In which case, don’t worry because I have planned for this by looking up some strip clubs to take BLA to as my payback for him taking me on this exciting trip.)
Belly Boy’s beautiful bony bimbos! |
Fat Bastard: Belly Boy, I think you will get lucky. There is no doubt in my mind that the nurse/waitresses there are fat admirers… ALL of them. One whiff of your fat boy musk and all I can say is make room for them on your rented power chair and get really to have you folds lifted by two of them while the other one gives you a Boom Shakka Lakka.
BELLY BOY, OUT
A bigger fatter airplane |
UPDATE!
BELLY BOY Reporting from the Heart Attack Grill.
Belly Boy’s News Van aka The Belly Van |
So what happened was, we go in, and I shout “Hey it’s me!” and then I go in for my weighing. I top out the scale immediately, and sit back down in my wheelchair, and then I order up a Quadruple Bypass Burger along with some Flatliner Fries, a margarita, and six shots of tequila.
I down the tequila first, rapid fire style, and then I nurse the margarita until the burger and fries arrive. It’s about time.
What followed is a feeding frenzy, with greasy goodness all over my face and beard. I got the Quad with cheese and fried eggs, of course, and added some condiments as well. I have to say that it’s even better than a Belly Boy Burger, aside from the fact that it is a lot smaller. I like the high fat content, it has plenty of juice and grease, which are very important when you’re having a burger. Too little juice, and it’s not messy enough to be fun. Too little grease, and it just doesn’t have that classic burger flavor.
I eat the Quad in just 3 minutes, and immediately go back to get weighed. While they’re cooking up the next one, I’m finishing up my Flatliner Fries and am ordering up my first soda and another margarita.
One of Belly Boys famous quadruple flushers |
I get another 6 shots of tequila, and down the next Quad in just 3 and a half minutes. Then I had the margarita and a couple of sodas, and order up another Quad, and have some more tequila, and now I am starting to get drunk.
Drunk eating is the most pleasurable activity possible. Forget illegal drugs, all you need is a good nicotine buzz, a good tequila buzz, and a belly full of greasy meat.
I get on to my fourth Quad, and by this point I am totally full. I order up one last Quad, after getting weighed yet again, and I head to the bathroom to get rid of some of the excess liquids. I pee for an eternity, then head to the toilet and produce an epic shit. Suddenly, I don’t feel quite so full anymore.
I polish off two more Quads and then I can barely move. People were asking for my autograph, taking pictures with me, and just generally being awesome towards me. I got a picture of two of the nurses sitting on my lap!! I had a boner but nobody could tell because it’s covered by my folds. That’s an advantage of being fat, you don’t have to be embarrassed by random boners.
I asked out two of the nurses to come to the hotel with me but both gave excuses why they couldn’t. They wheeled me back to the van, and I told them I would be back tomorrow. I fell asleep quickly, having shot myself up with lots of insulin, and my body struggled to process and digest all of the delicious calories I had just ingested. I love that feeling!
Working prototype of Belly Boy’s Plane the Belly Liner |
Design for a bigger fatter airplane. |