National Fat Bitch Day

I declare today to be

National Fat Bitch Day.

I feel like I need something to celebrate.

I want to single out each bulging roll from my tits down to my groin –

each one, individually –

and congratulate them on a job well done.

“Good work!! Congratulations!!

You’re fat, really roly-poly!

Did you have to eat a whole lot?

Wow, what commitment. I admire your perseverance.”

Slapping awards on my thighs and rippled ass,

I’d shout “Hurrah! I’m fat!”

to all those skinny little bitches out there.

My cellulite can beat their asses.

My jiggling waddle can slap them in their emaciated faces.

So that when they sit down,

and nothing rolls over their belt buckle:

no proud display of a feeding well-accomplished:

no pulsing evidence of complete culinary abandon,

they can feel like they are missing something.

Then I’ll brandish my medal

my scroll

my certificate declaring:
FAT BITCH AWARD, 2001

and make them cry into their jutting elbows,

tears streaming down their bony cheeks.

Happy Fat Bitch Day.

-Nicola Barber