Fat Chicks: A lot like Computers

After spending my weekend hurling half-full beer cans at herds of fat chicks from my friend Danny’s second-floor window, I had an epiphany. It came at the precise moment a Silver Bullet slapped some Chubby Checker in her fat, flabbergasted face. That’s when I realized the similarities between computers and fat chicks.

Woah…let’s get something straight right away: I don’t condone violence on women. I know upon reading those opening lines, I probably incited some buzzed-cut broad to add my name to the “Men to Mutilate” list, posted on a Virginia Woolf message board. Well cool your jets Ballistic Betty, I don’t find levity in beating up babes. I specifically said FAT chicks; hence,

Knock-knock…

Who’s there?

Fat chicks!

Fat chicks who…

Who the fuck cares…they’re fat!

(“Btw”, if you’re planning to use that joke, please cite me in Chicago style format)

Hence II, battle-cows are bereft of their basic rights as sentient beings. Hence III, both computers and fat chicks:

…are the last resort on a drunken night: You know the “last resort nights”. The nights where, after no luck with the little ladies, you go home horny and drunk. Enter the resort: Suddenly, a dismal AIM attempt at ass becomes the last stop before a masturbation/pass out finale. Sometimes, sadly, animals attack and you, in a stupor, stumble upon (or more appropriately bounce off of) a behemoth broad. Thus, proving my theory: drinking leads to lust, lust leads to computer use, computer use leads to embarrassing hefty hook ups, hungry hungry hook ups leads to ridicule which leads to more drinking (This is also known as the Circle of Miller High Life).

…will take whatever they can get: My computer, being the little slut it is, would download anything with a file. The same holds true for fat chicks. They will hook up with anything, and I mean ANYTHING.

…operate in megabytes: Regardless if it’s RAM memory or simply ramming a subway sandwich down an esophagus, both b(i/y)te and those b(i/y)tes are MEGA. But don’t take my word for it (Burton, 1989, “Reading Rainbow”), talk to your last friend that hooked up with the town tugboat ask him about the “mega-work” Jumbo Jaws did on his member.

…sit in one place all-the-goddamn time. Actually, I will renege that point by combining two sweet jokes from 3^rd grade: my computer is running whereas when fat chicks sit around the house, they REALLY sit around the house. Also, Tommy Holster is a total penis-face, vote for me for class treasurer and I’ll put vending machine in the cafeteria, I swear.

OK, well that’s all I can think of. I know only coming up with four similarities sort of sucks, and I’m sure there will be curmudgeons who will point out that computers can’t play softball or can’t get an eating disorder. So true, there are obviously differences between computers and fat chicks; one flagrant example being I actually spent money on my computer.