And the last thing I need is a stick-figured, fashionably-challenged, dry-haired bitch who wears braces when she was probably spawned in the Mesozoic Era, sneering at me.  Let me get this straight, I don't want to be thin.  Ever.  I don't even know where the hell you got the idea that being thin is healthy.  Probably at the same place you got the idea to wear a denim jacket over a  white collared knitted shirt paired with a flared fuckin' pussy red pants and black hideous slip-ons I wouldn't wear in my worst nightmares.  So that place, bitch, is pretty unreliable.  So go pack your bags and move someplace where they serve sound reasoning and a smile. Don't fucking frown all the time.  You are not Victoria Beckham.  And if you think Posh is a great role model, you need to slap yourself twice in the morning.  Three, if possible, around lunchtime. You need to wake up to the reality that she barely looked human.  I mean, damn, she's orange.  Have you seen her lately? She looked like an Ethiopian with breast implants!  When your bones start to stick out of you, girl, something's wrong with you.  You are malnourished, therefore, you are not healthy.  Unless you are obese or can already measure your weight not by pounds or kilos, but fucking tonnage, hell yes, you need to lose those goddamned pounds!  What I meant to say was,  it doesn't matter if you're fat or you're thin.  Being unhealthy goes both ways.

Yes, I admit I am not healthy.  I have allergies, I have an ulcer and I am struggling with my insomnia.  I only sleep  three/four hours max every night (Or dawn).  Sometimes, not even those few hours if I get so unlucky.  Yes, I want to lose a few pounds from time to time but not so much that I would be thin.  And bitch, I am not overweight.  I just happen to have hips.  Probably a foreign concept to you.  You, who have no hips to speak of and two pitiful lumps of sugar on your chest.  Just so you know, I don't want to lose these hips. 

These hips are mighty hips.  These hips are magic hips. 

When I was younger, I admit I was self-conscious about them.  They stick out and I have difficulty selecting jeans or shorts since I have a bit of a small waist.  If I got the waist correctly, there's a big chance it won't fit my hips.  Not to mention my ass and my thighs.  So when the salesperson asks for size, specifically for my waist size, I just tell her, "Miss, my waist doesn't matter.  Give me something that would fit my hips."  For awhile, my hips had been the bane of my existence.  Buying pants that would fit perfecty is like a quest for King Solomon's Mines.  It's miserable hardwork.  But as I got older, I grew to love my hips.  My ass too!  They're quite round and grabbable.  Just ask the leering guys at the mall <insert evil laugh>. I love these hips.  They sway when I move.

I am not against thin girls, some of them are quite cute and looked good in cosplay.  But I do have a problem with people who starve themselves to be a size zero and treat those meatier girls as if they were elephants.  A lot of kids these days are so self-conscious that most of them freak out at a few extra pounds.  I don't know when did the society start to glorify emaciated females.  I don't know how is it ideal to look like Victoria Beckham or Paris Hilton when it's so much hotter to be Mae West or Jayne Mansfield.  Hell, Boticelli's Venus has hips and a bit round on the stomach area.  People in the olden times eat apparently, even goddesses.  Only women in this day and age considered eating a taboo.  Poor sods.

So Old Lady of the Terrible fashion Sense, you got my answer.

I am not going to be thin.  Ever.

"I Am Not Fat. I Am Sexy Succulent"