She was just fat enough…

Sometimes I make it sound like I’m always hunting down big bitches with my high-caliber-penetration Weapon-of-Ass-Destruction, but the truth is my massive notch count isn’t entirely comprised of obese bitches (SSBBWs). Fucking big bitches is tiring, hard work, so sometimes fucking a less-fat fattie is a nice break from the usual — and it ain’t dumpster diving if the girl has a cute face. Just as often as I find myself with a Goliath BBW hoe, I find myself with girls that just got one or two extra chins, some extra muffin tops and some belly flab. Look man, you can’t always eat lobster and steak. Even if you could afford to do so, your system would tire out after a while, and this applies to pussy getting as well. The key to getting your notch count in the triple digits is to lower your standards here and there.

Something like this. Kinda thinner, but still beautiful somehow. Great personality makes up for lack of flesh. And she has 5 kids, just wow.

Loud proud and ready to wow.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not out there breaking off in girls built like twigs. No sir, I still got some standards. Yesterday I was at Walmart when this thin, 5’2″ tall, 150 pound looking thing was eyeing me up in the frozen food aisle. I could tell she wanted to melt down my thick, tall, dark chocolate popsicle; but I knew better. I knew to hold back because her miniature 150 pound ass would be annihilated by a man of my caliber, and I ain’t interested in hurting anyone like that. Her ass was too small to ride, so I avoided eye contact and kept on moving along. Not long after I spotted something a lot better. She wasn’t quite big enough to be a BBW in the traditional sense, but she had a big gut with a fold swinging past her waist and decent muffin tops. I could tell she tried to conceal some of it by the way she dressed, but she passed the thick arms test — if a woman has thick ham arms, you know she’s got a nice ass too. So I made a move just as she opened the freezer door to grab some frozen hungryman dinners. I got right behind her and pretended to grab the same box, and with a fun sarcastic tone was like, “bitch please, you ain’t no hungry man! Give it up!” Of course she thought it was cute and funny, cause I said it with confidence, plus she isn’t as insecure as a real BBWshe’s only mildly thick, so it just made her giggle. We talked for a bit and she told me she was a mom with 5 kids (dammnnn, no wonder she had them hips, thick ass, and big stomach). Let me tell you, I’m no milf hunter — I don’t go out of my way to playgrounds and toy stores just to find moms, no sir, but this milf had an ass I wanted.

Bitch, you got kids? No problem, shit test passed with flying colors!

Bitch, you got kids? No problem — shit test passed with flying colors!!!

She tried her best to dissuade me from coming over because her kids were there, but I was persistent. I ended up back at her place and started microwaving all of the 6 hungryman dinners for her and her kids (applying my special touch as a chef). Her kids were there and they kept nagging me, asking me If I was their new daddy. I told them I was chef Home-boyardee, just there to make dinner and lay down a new pipe ;). They got really excited that I might be their new dad, so I had to reward them by whipping up big, gourmet ice cream sundays. It was a solid move that put the kids out cold like chloroform. Big momma was feeling tired too, but not too tired for some chicken stuffing. Being 20 pounds short of a full BBW, it was amazing that she still offered up just enough resistance to handle my shock-wave jackhammer therapy. And her blood sugar levels must be something, no fatigue — she was still eating while I was pounding it, so I gave her some fudge covered dick for dessert.

follow me on twitter for more big game advice @NigelBigGame

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

Daygame: how to sack big ladies in the daytime

The difference between meeting women in the the day vs. at night is some serious shit. First of all, at night it’s harder to comprehend the size and scope of that ass-cavity you plan on drillin’ and fillin’. Women appear more spatially-ambiguous when it’s dark and you’ve got some cognac in your system. That’s why when I go out at night, I always always always bring my night vision goggles (or at least a flash light) with me into the club; but in the daytime that’s not necessary — this is why the ancients worshiped the sun. The day time requires different game, especially when they your targets are out shopping; things move more slowly and they probably have more food in their stomach to slow ’em down.

Before you go out, you got to pick your daytime venue: Where do you find big bitches at? In America it’s good old McDonald’s, Pizza Hut, the grocery store, other fast food joints, the dollar store, etc… But we’re going to focus on the best venue for meeting behemoth pussy in the daytime: Walmart. Why Walmart you ask? Besides the fact that it’s a low-income haven for plus sized mommas, logistically the stores are huge — designed to slowdown big women by strategically fatiguing and entrapping them in between aisles so they spend more time looking at products. All these aisles are an optical illusion, appearing to be large and accommodating for fatties. Combined with Walmart’s extra large shopping carts and a little traffic, fat bitches can get caught or “funneled” in between the aisles. This makes it more convenient for us to force feed them our big day game.

It goes down like this: I walk on in and grab myself the biggest shopping cart I can find. Then I usually head right and start patrolling the pharmacy section where they sell drugs at. Surprisingly that’s where you will find the thickest concentration of fat bitches; because they’re usually over there looking to buy painkillers. Fat women always have chronic pain in their feet for some reason, and they like to swallow down those white aspirin skittles while they shop. Anyway, when I spot one browsing the aspirin skittles, I roll up on her and use my shopping cart to block off her exit. Think of it as blockading a port. Let’s say the shopping cart is blockading her on the left side, that’s when I slip through to her right side and pretend like I’m looking for the same shit she is. You following me so far homie? This ain’t a football play here, all I gotta do is pretend like I’m heading back to my cart, but bump into her repeatedly several times as if her big ass is in my way. If I blockaded her correctly with the shopping cart, this maneuver is easy to pull off. So I’ll keep bumping into her, and every time be polite and say “excuse me ma’am,” and “my bad.” I usually do this about 10 times for each big momma.

How its done

What I love about this game tactic is how advance it is: It’s plausibly-deniable indirect kino-escalation game combined with a vicious physical neg that will force her to open you up conversationally. The physical neg well cause her to feel insecure about her size, and she’ll use the indirect physical kino-escalation to blame you for running into her. In most situations like this she’d probably scream rapist and you might find yourself getting beat down by Walmart security, but because I neg that bitch at the same time, she’ll be more focused on her size-insecurity first. Before she pulls the creeper card she’s going to try to qualify her self. When she qualifies herself with something like “motherfucker I ain’t fat, you just a clumsy f***…” that is the decisive moment when the Disney magic happens. You gotta quickly comeback with big swag, I usually say, “beauty is in the eye of the beholder; we are all gods children.” At this point there’s usually a small audience watching us, so I raise my voice like a preacher. Now that bitch is on the spot and in my pocket and I’ve got the moral high ground. All I have to do is say “I’m sorry” and offer to buy her a lunch at McDonald’s. Now that’s what I call an insta-date — I’m lovin’ that pussy.

———————

Now I want to give a much belated shout-out to all the blogs in the manosphere that have finally come around to fat acceptance. Bronanthebarbarian, thank you for helping me out to convert men back to lovin’ real women. Flyfreshandyoung, dangerandplay, donlakapocalypsecomethaaronsleazysocietyofamateurgentlemenlittlepdogtheprivatemanmattforneyscartissue, and all the other blogs that gave me a shout out, thank all y’all! God bless you guys. Holla back sometime.

follow me on twitter for more big game advice @NigelBigGame

The Food Truck Experiment

Fat acceptance on wheels baby. Are you hungry now?

Check out my new ride. I had to finance that bitch, and use my house as collateral, but fuck that place. This is better than a house, it’s a fornication fortress on wheels. It was worth all the trouble. Since I’ve purchased this foodtruck and acquired my business license, I’ve seen my notch count go up and way out the ball park. It’s the perfect bait to get the whales out of the ocean. From feedin’ to breedin’, I left them fatties bleedin’. Every step of the way my man, got the right plan. Let me lay it out.

After getting a business loan from the bank, I walked out like a boss. I could hear Rick Ross music playing in the background, I knew I had it made. After getting that squared away, I went to my friend and bought the truck, got the windows tinted, and bought industrial grade cooking supplies, appliances, and lots of food. Also had to get extra suspension and support beams welded on the bottom of the truck to support extra weight (you should know why).

Now I know what you’re thinking, “Nigel, why didn’t you just get an ice cream truck? Wouldn’t that be easier and cheaper?” The problem with the ice cream truck is that it attracts more kids, and I’m not running Michael Jackson game here, so fuck that idea. Kids just get in the way. Also, try fucking a big girl in an ice cream truck: all the ice cream would melt at the very least, and my accountant would beat my ass for something like that. I chose the food truck because It allows me show off my gourmet cooking prowess, which really reels in the big game bitches. Finally, foodtrucks are bigger than ice cream trucks, so there’s more room to fuck.

So the point of the food truck is not merely to fatten my wallet by feeding hoes, no. It is about that next level, 2.0 game and logistics. It’s attraction and seduction (feeding and breeding) all in one place, on wheels, and in my control as the owner. Everywhere I stop I pop (ass) like you put poptarts in a toaster. It feels like cheating actually. Some locations I park at and serve ’em up: in front of the the dollar store, Rent-A-Center, Walmart parking lot, in front of first-cash-advance/checks cashed locations, and in front of grocery stores. The latter is one of the absolute best places to set up shop because when fat women go grocery shopping, they get hungry looking at all that food. They can’t eat the groceries until they buy them and get back home. That’s where chef Nigel comes in with the food truck and facilitates their need to feed. Oink Oink baby.

As you can see from the picture, I specialize in gourmet soulfood, but with a modern twist: like fried chicken sandwiches (in between cornbread-waffles), fried cornbread biscuits with secret sauce, fried corn on the cobs, fried chicken with beer batter, popcorn shrimp gumbo, and pizza. As you can see, I love cooking. I love serving food to fat women, seeing the look on their eyes — It’s like Christmas. Little do they know how much blood and sweat, and love I put into their food. It gives each dish extra flavor, that secret sauce. That’s when I wink back at them as I see them get all that food, that secret sauce all up in their mouth. A tent pops up in my pants. Once they get a taste of my flavor, my spice, they’re immediately hungry for more: all I have to do is shift gears.That’s when I serve dessert, “baby, that cornbread-waffle fried chicken sandwich was heavy, you should wash it down with some dick.”

follow me on twitter for more big game advice @NigelBigGame