Let’s set the table. Before you get excited, “the table” is but a metaphor. I’m not actually putting out donuts and Swiss rolls. A fan writes to Bill Burr. The fan is single and just lost a lot of weight. But the women he works with all want to set him up with fatties. He didn’t lose weight to settle for fatties, so he declines. So the women call him FATphobic.
Because “my body, my choice” only applies to some people. It applies to the women wanting to shove Ding Dongs in their mouths. Just not to the guy who doesn’t want to shove his ding dong anywhere near it. Consensually, of course.
Anyway, with all the women in his office body-shaming him, the guy had no one else to turn to. So he asked his favorite podcaster for some advice.
I’m not FATphobic. I just weigh 172 pounds, and I know I can get a better cut of meat… alright, you should respect everybody. Just say, “Listen, I used to be fat like you. And I started rock climbing. Why don’t you rock climb? Or at least maybe stare at a bunch of rocks. Instead of eating Rocky Road ice cream every weekend.”
AAN Staff
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