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Random Thoughts – May 22nd


Fat Guys Ruin Life for Everyone Else

I've been AWOL for a few days because I took my Sweet Irish Rose and our little angels down to Disney World.

This isn't my first rodeo, so I knew going in that a Disney trip, while fun as hell, isn't to be enjoyed; it's to be endured. You don't go there to relax, you go there to beat the crowds. To outwit, outplay, outlast. You have to do your research, have a gameplan, and be smarter than everyone else. You need to hit the rides before the lines get long, then be exiting the park while all the clueless tourists from Piscataway are waddling in, wondering why there's a 45 minute wait for "Peter Pan's Flight." On a Disney vacation, You. Play. To. Win. The. Game.

And as much as the pervasive happiness of the place and the unrelenting friendliness of the Disney employees rubs off on you, eventually all the planning, all the running around and all the logistical brainwork wears out your patience and inner Masshole comes out. With me, it came by Day 3. And it came in the form of hating the handicapped.

Not the real handicapped, of course. I'm talking about the phoney baloney fat handicapped. The handifat.

The Disney transportation system is a marvel. They have complimentary bus service from anywhere to anywhere else. They operate according to need so you never need to wait more than 15 minutes, even in the hugest crowds. We probably averaged six bus trips a day, and of those six easily five of them required us to stand there for ten minutes in the broiling Florida sun while the bus driver had to load some Whopper-addicted lardass on the bus with the handicap elevator.

This by no means is a rank on legitimately impaired people. If you're elderly and outlived the use of your legs, more power to you. If you're some kid in Forrest Gump leg braces, you're in my prayers. If you're some disabled veteran, me and my kids thank you everyday for our very lives. But if you're just some handifat, tooling around in a power cart because your ass is two axehandles wide, than you owe me a substantial portion of a very expensive vacation.

I'm on record as admitting I'm partial to fat guys. But when I rule the world (and trust me, it won't be long now), the days of them being treated like legitimately sick people are over. Walk it off, Tubby. Then your next salad is on me.

— Jerry Thornton, 3:53 pm | permalink | 42 comments