Silence of the Hams

Recently a very clever brother I know, we’ll call him JW, came up with a very interesting tactic that I decided to borrow (thanks brother). I’m sure he won’t mind since he’s left the game to live an ascetic existence in the Caribbean. Anyway, I’ve already successfully incorporated this method into my own chubby chasing arsenal. Let me break it down for you.

The idea behind this: Instead of going to Walmart all the time, why not get these mammoth-walrus sluts to waddle there way to my place? Ahah, light bulbs lit up and then exploded in my head like fireworks when I figured out how to do this shit. It’s simple: just pretend you are some kind of talent scout for a beauty pageant or modeling agency. I started putting out flyers and ads on craigslist for a BBW beauty pageant promoting fat acceptance. Here’s the flyer I used:

The results were off the chain. It was like something out of Hansel and Gretel, and I was the witch with the gingerbread house; but instead it’s made of pizza and cornbread too. In fact, the auditions were held at my house, and I laid out trails of cornbread covered with nutella from the front door to my bedroom. When each BBW entered through the front door for the audition, she knew this is the place to show off her fat acceptance, where she can comfortably embrace her lack of willpower.

When a fattie approaches, I leave my door unlocked and open it just a crack, so it swings open when she knocks. As she enters, the BBW sees the trail of food and hears the voice “Come on in baby. Treat-yo self.” It’s my voice coming from the bedroom, as I lie in wait for the impending ambush. She starts eating the food that leads to my bedroom, as I put on my ski mask and turn up some R&B music. As she follows the trail of food into the hallway, getting closer, the tension thickens.

The sound of her chewing gets louder and louder as she gets closer, and my dick gets harder and harder as I hear her grunting like a hog while she eats. My body starts sweating, as I become more impetuous. Finally (this is where my experience in Mixed Martial Arts comes in handy) I leap out of the bedroom and judo throw her extra-large ass to the ground, then hogtie her up. Now the pipe laying commences. My joint is harder than wood in wintertime when I plunge it into that pussy, balls deep. It goes in so hard sparks fly out because of all the friction. She squeals in pain with the nutella and cornbread still stuck in her mouth, while I’m throwing up her flabs like a pizza chef tosses dough in the air. Finally smoke starts coming out that pussy — time to switch holes! After I break off a nut or two in that ass, I turn up some James Brown and bust a move, woooo. That’s how I celebrate a fine day. After beaten that fat pussy up, time to put some ice cream on that ass to cool it down; open a few windows to let the tension out, and hear the birds sing.

If she is still around, I let her have some cookie dough as a treat. BBWs get hungry after sex. Plus It definitely ain’t rape if she licks cookie dough off my balls.

follow me on twitter for more big game advice @NigelBigGame

Want to increase your notches? Become a chubby chaser

One of the unknown benefits of being a chubby chaser in America is the severely high volume of “chubbies” waddling around everywhere. It’s not a surprise then that many seasoned chubby chasers (like myself) are able to rack up huge notch counts annually. If you’re from the pickup community, then you automatically understand that a high notch count equals serious game; and there’s no doubt my notch count is epic. If I kept count of every notch, I’d need the talent of a professional accountant to help me organize the spreadsheet. Here’s a picture from my current excel spreadsheet in progress:

excel

Check the image above, do you see it? Column C is weight. I have a special industrial grade scale, normally used for construction, built into my bed that allows me to weigh every fattie I fuck — It’s quite the piece of DIY engineering on my part. How does it work? Easy, when no one is in the bed it is zero; when I bring a fattie on my bed, I just subtract my weight and BAM, got her weight. Anyway, not to get off track…

Thanks to the rising obesity rate among women, which is already high as shit, I don’t have to put much thought into venue selection when I want to get my game on. I don’t even go out of my way to shop at Walmart as much anymore. They’re everywhere. Thank you HIGH FRUCTOSE CORN SYRUP, thank you Koolaid, Thank you McDonald’s and Burger King. Thank you for indirectly making it easier for me to maximize my notch count. At roughly 850 notches under my belt, you should be worshiping me mother fuckers.

All I can say to you wannabes, if you see me heading toward a fattie, you better step aside fast. I’m on that ass like a homing missile. WATCH OUT!

FATBITCHONTHEGO