Pointless posts bug me.
To avoid having this be a pointless post, I am going to respond to the signature above (because it's damn funny).
1. Please don't talk to my breasts. You won't be meeting them.
That's a shame, because they probably have more personality than you do. If your face were hot, we wouldn't have to look at your breasts - conversely, if your face isn't hot, you should probably be thankful we're looking at a part of you that ISN'T nasty.
2. If you want to control someone, sleep with your remote.
Either that or tie you to the bed. Plastic bag over the head is optional.
3. I always choose chocolate over men — ALWAYS.
And I always choose hot girls over fatties who eat too much chocolate, so I guess it all works out. This is unintentional humor at its best - no decent heterosexual woman is going to choose food over the opposite sex. From this, I deduced that the writer of this list is most likely Shamu reincarnated with jelly rolls that would do Krispy Kreme proud. That's why she has nothing better to do than sit around at home complaining and trying to forget the only man she'll ever get is either a BBW lover or a desperate drunk guy who will later go tell stories about "that night Moby met D!ck" to all his friends.
4. 51% Love Goddess, 49% *****. Care to push your luck ?
But it all adds up to 100% stupid. A girl can get away with a bad personality if she's hot - but based on #3, I'm guessing this one can't afford it. And thanks for letting me know in advance you alternate between having a bad personality and being a tease. That saves me the few seconds I might have considered dating you before I saw the "KFC Eating Champion of the Northwest" plaque on your wall and the massive mounds of blubber on your body.
5. My sexual preference is NO.
If by NO you mean, "I'm a desperate fatty who will sleep with any man that will validate my Ho-Ho eating existence, at least for the few hours before he wakes up and discovers the reason his friends will be making fun of him for the next 6 months wrapped up in a size 24 muumuu on the bed next to him", then that makes perfect sense. Also, note the clever tactic the author uses, claiming that she in fact DENIES men sex, rather than never being offered it. Now, if only you could say no to that case of Hershey bars and 3 helpings of chocolate cake too...
6. My body is a temple, now get on your knees and pray.
What is this temple, the Parthenon? I guess it is pretty impressive how your silhouette can block a doorframe, but fleeing in terror seems a more likely reaction than prayer.
7. It's not the size that counts, it's... no, wait, size does count.
Yes, yes I agree. Your size 24 DOES count - it's good that even though you can't see your toes, you can at least see the reason you will never get a decent man (ironically, the cause of both can be found in the same place). If we're talking about penis size, well, maybe if you weren't such a stretched out sack of sh!t it wouldn't take a telephone pole to get you off.
8. Remember men, girls are made of sugar, spice, and everything nice.
What happened to 49% b!tch? Apparently women are also made of hypocrisy, lies, and stupid lists like this one. And in the case of this girl, about 2 tons of blubber that would do the Norwegian whalers proud. Try laying off the sugar and spice, not to mention the 12 steak and cheese subs, and there might be a solution to your problem.
9. Men are like hardwood floors, lay them right the first time and you can walk all over them forever.
Funny, I heard the exact same thing about women. This also raises the question, how do you lay a man "right"? A lot of girls think they're great in bed, but obviously not all of them are. If a guy tells you you were "great" it's probably because you laid there conveniently and he's afraid he won't get a return engagement if he told you the truth, i.e. you weren't nearly as good as your sister. Also, I'm doubting it'll be "great" if I have to tie a board across my ass to not fall into the deathtrap of your gaping gut.
10.Save your breath for your inflatable date.
The sad thing is, it'd be hotter, not to mention more interesting to talk to than a bitter fatty. Yeah, keep crying over the fact that men prefer to stick it to a piece of plastic instead of your jello ass, not to mention the waste of all that perfectly good protein that could be helping you add on another spare tire.
In conclusion, quit complaining about men and hit the stairmaster, you chubby chocolate-loving b!tch.
No real point to that, but it's that kind of a night. If anyone knows the original author of this list, please send my response to her - I'm interested in what she has to say (and if I should be the new Miss Cleo based on my amazing accuracy about her pear-shaped figure).