Why are Fat People not happy?

An argument I've always had with my brother often happened while we were eating together. Often when we pig out, (well, usually when one of us is taking a bite into his food while the other isn't) we end up chanting "SEMANGAT!" (it's like our code for 'PIG!') and then we'd get into a row about who has less to lose, the fat person (me) or the thin one (him) when he pigs out.


One argument he has is that he has nothing to worry about because he's thin and he can pig out all he wants while I can't. Well, I'm not one to resist a challenge, so let's go to it!


First of all, Fat people are already FAT! What's the harm of taking in more food? We're already fat so saying that I'd get fat from eating more food is kinda redundant. If it's one thing, thin people are the ones who's always worried about what they take. Questions like "Is this too fattening?" or "Is this going to go to my waists later?" and even "Oh god, my diet!" comes to their minds while all we fat people think about is, "Does this taste good?" Kinda puts things into perspectives doesn't it?


Second, Fat people are most probably already happy with the way they are, well, at least those who were fat in the first place. The only fat people you see exercising are those former thin ones who let themselves eat 20 pieces of fried chicken more than they ought to or perhaps a few of them have suddenly become self conscious. So really, why are fat people often labelled unhappy? There is this saying, my friend loves chanting it, "We live to eat, not eat to live" so as long as the food is good, we got good company that we can talk to, we're good. Really, we are.


Thirdly, We're gonna die! Seriously, that's something to look forward to. NOT! I admit that maybe we do have far more disastrous health risks than the thin people but I've said this once before; There isn't a better thing than to die fat, young and happy! We don't have to face taxes, we don't have to worry about life or whether we'd be lonely all our lives. We'd just be all happy and shit with our coffins and 6 feet of dirt and gravel covering said boxes. /SARCASM (In case you haven't gotten it yet)


All right, on a more serious note: my hands are tired, my legs are catatonic and my back aches. 2 hours of gym does that to you. Yes, I go to a gym, but not for the fact that I'm, how you say, overweight, but because of the pure fact that I weighed myself one day and thought "Holy shit!" and pursued to change it. I'd prefer to just flatten this spare tire and perhaps even help improve my stamina. Nothing too drastic though, I'm no dreamer.


Anyway, I usually win these arguments with my brother, mainly because I play my trump card, "If you do not have anything to lose, then polish off this nice, big, juicy steak" then I'd pause for dramatic effect before going "which'll no doubt hit your waist tomorrow morning turning you into a big blob of fat!" real fast. He shuts up, and I get to polish of fthe steak. Fat people of the world! REJOICE as we continue trumping those wretched thinnies with our quick wit, sharp sarcasm and our fast and undeniably cutting remarks on how their food can go to their waists! VIVA LA FATTIES!!!