Flabby, Sagging Guts

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While out for a walk in the park earlier, I found myself confronted by an appalling apparition as the light dimmed.

Walking towards me was a woman of indeterminate age, who, unfortunately for her, bore more than a passing resemblance to a walrus.

It wasn’t the chins, or the frizzy hair, or the moustache. Nor was it the laboured walk as she clung to her walking frame. No, what did it was the gut, and boy, was there a lot of it. Roll upon roll of heaving, sagging flab, hanging way down past her personals to her knees. Believe me, it was not a pretty sight. By way of illustration I give you this (Actually, we’ve used it as the header pic. Cheers, mate – Day Admin)

Yes, she really looked as though she’d got a huge, sagging arse on back to front. Lord knows when she’d last seen her most prized possession. Lord knows when anyone else had, or would want to, for that matter.

Truly I felt a bit sorry for her, because it was a pathetic sight to behold. But then, how can people actually allow themselves to get into such a state to begin with? It’s just so bloody grim to look at. It must be even grimmer for her to see herself in the mirror ever day. I think I’d top myself before I got into such a state.

Boy, was I glad to get back into the house and see the wife; turned sixty, but still with a stomach like an ironing board and an arse as tight as a drum. What a woman.

I count my blessings.

Nominated by: Ron Knee

78 thoughts on “Flabby, Sagging Guts”

  1. Who is Rob Knee? Is he Ron’s brother…….or his civil partner perhaps?

    (Well spotted, Freddie. To be honest, I was so traumatised posting the header pic that my vision blurred into a primal scream! – Day Admin)

      • The “front arse” looks like it’s dribbled. Gawd, I shudder to think of it nude.
        Hands up! Who’s got the horn…??

    • Where is Ron/Rob anyway?

      Or is he admiring the header pic just a little bit too much!

  2. Clearly,you are not a supporter of the body positivity movement. Thus you are a hater: Gary Linnicunt would say.

  3. They do it on purpose, do Admin.

    I was just about to make a ham and cheese toastie, but one look at that and I’ve completely lost my appetite.

    I should imagine that a land whale like that uses 50% of her GPs budget on her no doubt multiple health issues.

    • Jeez! That “woman” in the header pic doesn’t need a G string; she needs the whole fucking alphabet!!

      Imagine going down on that on a hot, humid, sticky evening! I’m sure the Geneva Convention bans this kind of torture!

  4. You’re a lucky man, Ron.
    Most wimminz, after they’ve had a couple of kids and their fannies shut up shop forever, also stop exercising, the idle biffas.
    Very fat people disgust me utterly.
    How dare they ruin the only body they’ll ever have, the ungrateful bags of shit?
    There are people born with Spina Biffida, born blind and deaf or a multitude of other bodily errors through simple genetic bad luck and you’re sitting there eating your 17th piece of cake, you selfish ingrate?
    I’m glad you’re miserable. Hurry up and eat yourself to death.

    • Thomas

      I can never believe just how lucky I’ve been as far as the wife’s concerned.

      I think it’s the pilates that does it in her case.

  5. What you talking about there are no fat people in this country.

    Cost of living crisis, no one can afford to eat.
    Come on big nose rashford I want my government food parcel..

    • She’s a ‘prepper’. She just couldn’t be arsed to dig a cellar so carries her food supplies on board so to speak..

  6. It used to be worse though. I seem to recall about 20 years ago there was an epidemic of obese grannies going around wearing leggings. Not only was the knicker line clearly visible, but fuck me, you could see the gusset line too.

    Enjoy your cornflakes, cunters.

  8. There are a mother and daughter who frequent the local Tesco, my god they are huge looks like they are being fattened up for market. Even worse than their blubber is fact they wear leggings, so tight are these things you can see every detail even the various shades of bodily fluids on their draws, and the rub Mark’s on the inner thighs if you looked really hard(probably) I suspect they use butter twixt the thighs to stop them bursting into flames from friction. If they were on a beach sunbathing Greenpeace would tow them back into deep waters. Fucking gross old rattlies, greasy haired sweaty old cunts.

    • I worked in an office a few years ago where there were two massively obese women, I overheard a conversation once where they were talking about constant itching and fungus, in the folds of flesh. One was suggesting some sort of medicated powder to the other. At no time did either mention going on a diet – with these cunts it is always a case of , the more of a state they get in, the more NHS resources, prescriptions, free stuff, help etc they should have. An uncaring society, nasty Government, capitalism, men and so on, made them eat all that crap. My late father used to joke that fat people were always happy but in my experience they are often nasty cunts.

  9. Ah, but ‘they’ keep telling us, “It’s what’s inside that counts.”
    There should be two sets of Government Statistics, the Unemployed and the Unemployable Cunts.

    • I’ll tell you what’s inside, Hugh.

      14 Fray Bentos pies (each) with a kilo of oven chips, followed by a party-sized Black Forest Gateau and half a litre of double cream.

  10. They really should be totally banned.

    Imagine being in a lift with one,or sat next to it on an aircraft.

    The stench alone is enough to put me off my black pudding,almost anyway.

    Anyhow,no doubt the cunts are on lots of social “security” and so are just a greasy drain on society.

    Oven.

    • Motning UT…my family all flew to South Africa 15 years ago for a wedding. My mother (not known for her tact or sensitivity) ended up sitting next to a big fat woman.
      Mother grumbled and huurruumphed for a couple of hours until fatty needed to squeeze past to get to the toilet.
      “Why do you have to be so fat?” enquired Mother.
      And seeing the woman getting upset, she continued with “you smell, too.”
      The blubberguts was trying not to cry and asked a trolley dolley to change seats but was denied and had to sit next to her for 6 more hours!
      The rest of the family found this highly amusing.

      • This is thoroughly splendid Thomas.

        More of this should go on,motivate the fat cunts to get to fuck,I don’t care if they lose weight so long as they aren’t anywhere near me.

        Sweaty shuffling m.ongs

    • You’re assuming there’d be room in the lift if one got on. And it could take the weight.

  13. Well if the directors are pushed for ideas for another Alien Vs Predator sequel, they’ll know where to come – Header Pic Vs Diane Abbott in slinky underwear!

  14. Apparently fat shaming isnt allowed anymore, so nnow we have adverts with fat cunts in them think of the go to the beach ad with the fat kid and the ice cream or (i think) the actimel ad with the fat bird working out. These ads include fat people because of this law, but what they acyually do is appear to ‘normalise’ fatness.

    We now have an obesity problem in the uk….coincidence? I dont thinl so….if you advertise the fact its ok to be overweight, then its impossible for the health experts to say it isnt.

    Stupid woke cunts changing laws and opinions, when actually chastising someone for being fat was more effective if fighting obesity

  15. Nasty business all that belly blubber.

    It’s what I like to refer to as the “apron”

    There was a youngish lass I used to work with who wasn’t particularly fat but whenever she reached up for something then you’d catch an eyeful of excess stomach flesh.

    “The Apron of Death” me and another colleague would call it. In reference to the song by Slayer.

  16. Presumably the poor woman will appear to have two arseholes. What possessed her to wear trousers ?

    That old joke came to mind. What has six legs and two arseholes. A Mounted Policeman. I then foolishly made up, what has two wings and eleven arseholes.
    A football team.

    • I came back because it occurred to me the woman may have a camel toe for an arsehole. Giving the appearance she’s walking backwards for Christmas, with her head on the wrong way round. She must be found, in the interest of medical science. The woman doesn’t know whether she’s coming or going. Hurry Ron !

  17. They’ve all got mental elf problems. Which apparently is we all want to eat ourselves to death. Well you have to admire their determination, don’t you.

    Up until fairly recently me and a few mates played a game called ‘Fatty Snapping’.

    Ironically it was mainly wimminz we snapped because our general observation was wimminz when they get obese are far more obese than men but nothing to prove that other than around 12 years under my belt of fatty snapping.

    So originally you’d look for say an ironic pic so a great big lard bucket at the salad counter in Morrisons (ironically filling up on potato salad) and so on.

    In Time it just graduated into a game of twist and stick.

    However in just a little over 12 years the game has kind of fizzled out because the huge monsters I first ever snapped in Meadowhall Shopping Centre (yes I really do remember where I was at the time) are no longer shocking.

    Just think about that for a minute.

    Only 12 years ago I was shocked at the site of these morbidly obese things and now I guess they just must be everywhere.

    And it is 100% true to say growing up in the 70’s there would only be 1 fat kid in the school.

    In 1989 The Sunday Sport published a front cover featuring a monster from Germany called ‘Gert Bucket’.

    At the time I genuinely thought it was a set up and she was wearing a fat suit or something as I couldn’t possibly contemplate anything could get that fat.

    But it was true and even though I thankfully can’t see under the clothes of these obese oxygen thieves that’s how they must look.

    Hopefully somebody more technically gifted will be able to post a picture of Frau Bucket

  18. Thats a pie hider and a half that is. Wouldn’t want to be trapped under it on a hot day. Or a cold day for that matter

  19. Nithing flabbier than Katie Prices’s minge,I suspect. Mind you her son Harvey is unlikely to ever be diagnosed with anorexia.

    Gemma Collins: famine resistant.

  20. Sums up England.

    All that was once possible destroyed by greed. What was once young and vibrant is now a bloated ugly old hag unable to support itself and unwilling to do what’s needed to fix its biggest problem.

  21. It’s all a matter of choice, my mates sister wants to give me a nosh with her teeth out.
    As yet I’m undecided.

    I think maybe she could leave them in.
    She’s not fat though, I can draw a line.

    • Please give it a go in the interests of science then report back Infidel.

      I’m sure that I speak for many on here when I say that we’d be fascinated to hear what it actually feels like.

      Christ I’m getting the horn now.

  22. Funny old world, when I was a lad poor people were thin and rich people were fat.

    Seems it’s the other way round now..!

    Why is that I wonder…?

    • Because “the poor” are given wages for doing nothing but binge watch and binge eat. “The rich” are forced to pay for it by doing the work.
      The grocery carts of these cunts are overflowing with shit like grape soda, frozen pizza, Mac n cheese, ramen noodles, hot pockets, pastries, and candy. It’s all paid for by thosenofnus who have to stay healthy enough to wotk.

  23. # “Who ate all the pies?
    Who ate all the pies?
    YOU fast bastard!
    YOU fat bastard!
    You ate all the pies!!” #

    Although I don’t suppose this football chant is allowed anymore. Might offend someone for hate crime!

    • That’s mild compared to some of the chants I’ve heard at grounds over the years Techo.

      A particular favourite of mine has always been;

      ‘John Terry your mom’s a brass give her a quid and she’ll lick your arse’.

      • Presumably though Ron, at Villa Park you would only hear this from the away team fans? Only southerners think “brass” rhymes with “arse” surely? The BBC used to broadcast a programme called Brass Tacks. Used to hear it introduced regularly by a BBC twat as Brarse Tacks, the assonance completely lost on him as it was an aphorism from outside the home counties.

      • Aye up Arfur.

        Yes it was when JT had a spell at VP a while back.

        Brentford and QPR mongs thought themselves such wags. The Villa faithful would respond with a more cerebral, intellectual chant, which would go right over their heads, something along the lines of;

        ‘Your sister is your mother, your father is your brother, you all fuck one another, the Rangers family dah dah dah dah dah dah da dah…’.

        Always a sporting reception for the opposition at VP.

  24. The woman in the photo would count as slim by US standards. Once the Land of the Free – now the land of reverse lardy wobble-bottoms. The UK is fast catching up.

    • Too true MM. Some of the sights I saw in Texas when visiting the daughter over there defied description. Horrendous.

  26. The wife’s just informed me that there is actually a medical term for this unappetising phenomenon. It’s called ‘pannus stomach’.

    Well I suppose that’s more succinct that ‘arse on back to front disease’.

    Morning all.

    • Re the nom photo up top;

      I hadn’t noticed before, but the wife’s pointed out that to make things even worse, there’s a suspicious looking stain low on the front of those trousers she’s got on.

      Bloody Nora, now I can’t unsee it.

  28. I like a drink and a cigarette.

    People point out that it’s bad for my health.

    When I see enormous, fat cunts like the one in the header, it makes me think how resilient the human body is.

    I am not worried about the health impact of the occasional piss up or a pack of Benson’s a day.

  29. I’m a diabetes wound specialist clinician. These things keep me in work. You get to know different patients waiting for treatment by the smell wafting in under the door from the waiting room. I keep telling myself, ” someone has to do it”.

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