I don’t mean all fat chicks, offensive to the eyes though they may be. I’m referring to a special type of miserable bitch, so despondent as to give up on ever finding happiness outside of a cream cake and dragging others down with her.

No, it seems a certain subset of the especially vocal and voracious supermorbidly obese female population has grown tired of wasting lazy days in front of the TV, grunting gutteral and flatulant agreement with Oprah between bites of ice cream from their only two friends Ben and Jerry. They’ve decided if they’re too lazy to put down the spoon, the next best thing is to convince other women they should do the same, thereby creating some sort of perverse reverse arms race in female appearance, and dragging out nation down with it.

We are a ship sinking from its own weight, and the captain is too busy picking out her formal muumuu to avoid the rapidly approaching fatberg.

This is a developing story.