Fat Tough

You have all seen them, the fat tough guys. These are those dudes that are not in any shape whatsoever but walk around like they are Goddamn Mr. Olympia. Big fat sloppy gigantic gut having slobs. Sleeveless shirts and tribal tattoos wrapped around there giant blubber filled biceps. Usually a crew cut and mandatory goatee. For some reason, I am guessing high blood pressure, their face is always red and eyes bloodshot. Like they have not $hit in a week and their attitude is the same. Pissed all the time because despite the ego that is as big as their neck (or lack of) they still can’t get laid. I am sure these guys would kick the hell out me at will but that makes them no more tough because they just smother you with blubber and fat strength. Fat strength is the result of having to carry all that lard around and a small amount of weight training. I mean I am 6′3″ 200lbs and on the slim side, but if I pounded food all day every day I could be fat tough too. So it is not impressive really, you are just fat. If choose to be one of these giants that is fine but don’t walk around like a douche acting like you just trained 5 days a week for the UFC. You ate buffets and Burger King and that does not make you anything but a fat guy with shitty tattoos and a bad haircut.  You know you are a bouncer and still like to brag about the glory days of high school football when your fat toughness overpowered all opponents.

I live in the capitol of fat toughness. Hawaii is loaded with Samoans and locals that are just enormous and angry all the time. I would never fuck with any of them that is for sure but I still think most of them are douche bags. Not all, some are very cool but it seems most are ultra violent and pissed. Stay far away from any of them that are drunk that’s for sure. You even glance at them funny or dare brush against them in a bar  you will be slurping poi through a straw for 2 months.

I hate fat tough and that is why I have added them to my list of people I hate and want dead, for 5 minutes. So if I could just watch one of these hippos drop dead as their grizzle and fat covered heart explodes in their chest during a run in with a guy half their size, which is usually the case, I would smile. But it’s ok because five minutes later he would wake up and still be able to punish buffets, rough up drunk patrons in the bar he works at and still make the tattoo appointment so he can get his barbed wire tat touched up. It’s a win/win for everyone.