As You Can Tell from My Huge Fat Ass and all My Jokes about My Huge Fat Ass, I’m A Huge Fat Ass Comedian
By: A Self Deprecating Huge Fat Ass Comedian

Hey, what a lovely crowd. I haven’t had so many nice people come to see me perform since I worked at Sea World and had to fill in for Shamu one day when she got sick or something. Yeah, talk about a fictional situation that presents a mutually beneficial opportunity for you to skirt the social taboo of laughing directly in the face of a fat person while I make an easy living making fun of my own fat ass with the only kind of jokes I’m able to write that could ever elicit any sort of laughter from anyone.

Seriously though, I appreciate your coming out. Reciting self-deprecating humor about my obesity sure beats the last job I had working the desk at 24 Hour Fitness, where the sight of me made all the members think they were in much better shape than they previously thought or something and started canceling their memberships and stuff, and they fired me quicker than that job at Sea World I believe I mentioned before where they let me go because only the people in the first six rows are supposed to get wet and I was splashing the whole damn stadium and things of that nature.

You like that one? Well then you’ll probably enjoy hearing about this blind date I’ve been telling my audiences I went on last week for a good two years now to exploit the inherent comedic potential of somebody of my ungodly girth being involved in such a scenario that never actually happened. As you can imagine, the girl felt more than a little awkward to discover I was her date, so I tried to put her at ease by mentioning something about putting a buffet out of business that I stole from The Simpsons. That was pretty funny.

Hmmm… yeah, what else can I tell you about my enormous, megaton ass? Something about the politicians vying to represent it in Congress, perhaps? The fact that it has a scar from a gunshot wound I got during the Virginia Tech shooting while walking on the beach in North Carolina? Or the fact that it’s nine o’clock on one side and five on the other?

Seems like that last one could spawn something at least somewhat smart about time travel, but damn my fat ass if I could think of it. If I were even close to that clever I could take the next step up the comedy ladder by writing some dick jokes, and maybe lose enough weight so that I can go outdoors in my favorite red turtleneck sweater that I don't really own without a crowd of kids gathering around me screaming "Kool-Aid!" But as it is, I guess I'm stuck between a life of elastic waist pants and public self humiliation and one of a poor, skinny nobody.

Nothing funny about that.