Picture It: KelleBelle Hearts Seattle

Estelle Getty is smiling down on me as I write this here blog. This is THE Picture It of all Picture Its.

Picture it: Seattle 2008. A snowstorm paralyzes the city. Seattle doesn't get snow often (evidenced by their 2 snow plows and half a bag of salt for the entire city) and the entire population went bat ass crazy after three consecutive days of heavy snow. No one could get to work, school, church (I assume), nothing. They sure could get to the bar, but I'll get to that later. As you all know, KB is not the one to let a little of the white stuff get in her way of shopping or having a fun time. So off she goes with her favorite gal pal - let's call her "Chocolate" - to wreak havoc on the city last Sunday. After hitting a few of their favorite stores downtown, they decide to visit Beckman, a friend of Choc's, who happened to have been birthed 28 years to the day. Y'all know KB loves any reason to celebrate. But how to get to said birthday boy's abode? Both of our cars were safely parked/stranded near our homes and there was not a taxi in sight.

After walking the streets for a half an hour or so, KB and Choc hop on a bus, hopefully going in the direction of Beckman's crib. Once we were on our way I breathed a heavy sigh of relief to be out of the snow and on the way to party town. Then the bus got stuck in a heavy patch of snow. Yada yada yada, we had to de-bus, walk another half a mile, and catch another bus that left us about 20 minutes from our destination. To make a long story longer, we walked half-way, were rejected by a cabbie that said we werent going far enough to take our fare, and then hitchiked the rest. Yes, chile. (Don't tell mama Belle - she'd kill me!)

We finally make it to Beckman's spot and pop open the bubbly and coconut/lemongrass infused sake we purchased on the way. Did I mention it took us approximately 2 hours to travel about a mile? Anywho, we de-coat, de-snow, and I try to bring my feet back to life, as they had frozen on our journey. Once my pups were dry and back to life, we got the party going. Choc got all Claire Huxtable on the boys (birthday boy has a cute roomie named...Rodriguez) and started whipping up some steak nachos with two types of cheese she found in the fridge. The only problem was there wasn't two types of cheese. Just one, and a stick of butter that Choc mistook for white cheese. Cut to the boys downing those butter nachos like they were dripping with liquid gold. I'm pretty sure they cut about 10 years off of their life spans but they sure did enjoy those chips.

Some time later, in walks two of their homies: let's call them San and Petrovski. These boys know how to party and we kept it movin' to the neighborhood bar to really start celebrating Beckman's birthday. A few rounds of hot toddies, four buttered nipples, and a game of Cribbage with the skeevy 109-year-old bar owner later, and we were off to my crib so I could check my blackberry and do a quick wardrobe change.

On our way to my pad we peeped a mob of crazed Seattleites sledding down an extremely steep hill near my house that was covered in snow, like the rest of the city. These fools were using all sorts of shizz to shimmy down the hill - air mattresses, pizza boxes, garbage can lids, laundry baskets, gates, street signs. A whole heap of fuckery. Naturally, we couldn't wait to join in on the fun! So off we go to join the crowd (after of course imbibing and hanging with bob at my crib). You know how KB gets when she has too much of the good stuff - honey, I couldn't form a sentence after we left my apartment. Everything that came out of my mouth was nothing but loud, crazy giggle fits for the rest of the night. It was a problem.

Once on the hill, Choc let her inner child rove rampant and this B was flying down the hill on all sorts of makeshift sleds like she done lost her mind. Me and the rest of the crew just watched and laughed. Choc woke up on Monday with a huge bruise on her thigh from an unfortunate run-in with a wall, but she said it was worth it and I have to agree.

I'm leaving out a lot of details but my memory is fuzzy. The night ended with me leaving the hill around 3am and having to get up at 6am for work. I was tired, groggy, and completely content. What a fun, crazy, random night. I officially heart Seattle.

Smooches!

KB

P.S.: Choc saw an exact replica of the snow penis depicted above on a car near her house...or so she says.

KelleBelle's Picks

Shello.

KB here with what you're watching, listening, and drinking this weekend. You can thank me later.

Watching: Slumdog Millionaire. Just see it.

Listening: Britney! Her new album gives. me. everthing. Kill the lights bitches! Perfect for the gym. Or work. Or church. I am disappointed with my beloved Bey. That "Single Ladies" song is a bit condescending if you ask me. And save for the video, the song is...eh. If I were a boy...I'd take it to the left, to the left...and buy Britney.

Drinking: Absolut - Los Angeles special edition. I couldn't resist when I saw the alcoholic ode to my hometown whilst at the liquor store. Vodka infused with acai, acerola, pomegranate, and blueberry. What a crowd pleaser! My friend - who never drinks - couldn't resist after he got a whiff of the delicious aroma. Cut to him dancing on my living room table to Single Ladies.

Meanwhile, I'm very excited to see the Philadelphia version. I'm thinking infusions of cheese wiz, onions, and meat. Mmm hmm.

Reading: chile please. I am knee deep in contracts and FDIC testimony. I'll start reading for pleasure in 2009.

Have a fabulous weekend kids!

Smooches,

KB

Craigslist, I love thee

Picture it: I'm moving to my fierce, completely furnished new place last weekend. But what to do with the few pieces of furniture I bought while at my temporary apartment? Two words: Craig's list!

Not only did I make money, I met the best folks ever while wheelin' and dealin'!

My ad: "Stylish Futon, Coffee Table, and Dining Table - Will deliver!"

I broke even on the "Stylish Futon" and sold it to a very nice single mum. I think I aggravated an old track injury helping her move it into her 2nd story apartment, but she didn't have anyone else there to help and I figured that would count as my mitzvah for the week.

I made a cool ten buck profit on the cappucinno brown coffee table that I originally bought at Ikea for $40! Mind you, I didn't intend to make a profit, as I listed it for sale at $40. But the nice folks I sold it to - a young asian gal and husky white male (a cross between woody allen and seth rogen) - insisted on paying me an extra 10 spot for delivery! I told them it wasn't necessary, as I had the table in the back of my SUV anyway. But they insisted. And bonus - the guy is from Philly and recognized my cell phone area code. This of course led to a convo about how dope Philly is and ended with him welcoming me to Seattle and inviting me to a game of pool with him and the mrs. at the local watering hole. Awesome!

Right after that, I headed to my next delivery - to drop off a small dining room table to a young, scruffy, college-age lad. Well, it turns out he wanted the coffee table this whole time, not the dining table. I apologized and told him I must have gotten his email confused as I had a lot of offers on the tables. He said no problem and bought the dining room table anyway! (I think he just needed any flat surface to roll his j's.) I threw in a groovy mirror I bought for 10 bucks and told him his girlfriend would make use of it. He gave me $20 bucks even though I told him 10 for both was fine due to my slip-up. He insisted on the twenty and said, "Welcome to Seattle!"

As I was relaying the above tale to my gal in brooklyn, she told me she had a great Craigslist story too! She had been shopping for a treadmill for awhile and got one off of CL for $200! Bonus: the delivery man was 6'7, west indian, and fine. Double yum!

Do you have a good Craigslist story? Do tell!

5 Reasons Jake and Kelly are not going to the Inauguration

I'm home waiting for the cable guy and scantily clad in case he's as cute as the last guy.

While I wait, Jake and I are chatting away on gmail. The topic? Our plans to attend the inauguration. I'm still on the fence - the majority of our friends are going, but it is really becoming a hassle. As we normally do, we talked it out and decided to whip up a post, each listing 5 reasons why we ain't goin'. I'll let Jake go first:

Kellebelle, maybe it's true what we have been saying privately to each other all along: we are the only ones with any bloody sense. I too shant be attending any inaugerational activities in D.C. Let me count down all the reasons why for you and anyone out there who visits this thing we call a blog:

5. I hate D.C. Everyone knows that about me. I don't like the idea of a city not being a part of a state. Also, I once had a friend who was gay bashed there…in the gayborhood. Something isn't right about that place.

4. It's cold outside. January 20? Hell to the hell to the HELL NAWWW. I am supposed to trek alls the way down to DC, fight the crowds and then stand in the cold? I just had palpitations at the thought.

3. I missed the prequel: the million man march.

2. I am slightly sick of Barack Obama. Sick, sick, sick. Black or not, it's just been too much. Unless he is going to put a leotard on and dance with Michelle and Hilary by his side, I just can't do it. And, I swear he has been saying the same ish since winning the election as he did during the election. It's like chill out and keep it real. Who acts the same in an interview as they do once they have a job?

1. The revolution will be televised and in HD. Enough. Said. HD is so clear that really it's like being there. You will still be able to tell your kids I was there the day…

Jake, you are a mess. But I love you. Naturally, we have overlapping justifications (are you on your monthly too?! Samesies!) Here's my list:

5. My wallet would prefer not to be raped. A friend told me people are calling the actual inauguration passes "Golden tickets," and trying to hawk them for 5Gs. B please. The white house may soon be called the chocolate factory but it really isn't that serious.

Also, there are going to be sooo many people in DC, the thought of attempting to go to a bar, club, mcdonalds, the train, puts me off. There are going to be lines and inflated admission prices up the ying yang. And you know black folk don't know how to act. I foresee some lowbudget fights at the line and medium to high budget fights at the bar.

4. It's gonna be cold. The northwest is no southern cali, but it definitely is not as cold as the east. And I downsized my cold weather wardrobe when I made the move to the west coast from Philly so I'd have to go out and get all new uber cold weather gear. Which isn't a bad thing but there's just no time! I'm telling you I need an assistant. Maybe I can get one of the Diddy failures?

3. Too many folks. All of my friends from all different parts of my life (high school, college, law school, work, my stint in county, beauty school, etc.) are going and it will be hard to pick and choose who to spend time with and not hurt anyone's feelings. It's hard work being a diplomatic social butterfly.

2. It's all about the connects. And real talk: KB just don't got 'em or cares to use the few she has. I ain't calling nobody's assistant's cousin to get an invite to Oprah's ball. Although I bet the food is going to be ridic! I love that she just announced publicly that she could give a rip that she's tipping the scales at 2 hun. A black man is in the damn white house. If that ain't adequate reason to throw down with some greasy food and champagne on the regular, I don't know what is. Go 'head O.

1. Despite alladis, I'm still likely gonna go! Jake, I'll pick you up a t-shirt.

Meanwhile, the cable guy is here. Let's just say my crappy old sweatshirt and comfy yoga pants are back on.

Smooches!

KB and Jake

Random Thoughts: Hurry Up and Wait

In the second installment of KB's Random Thoughts, I will explore life's frustrating instances of immense anticipation and preparation, followed by a swift, disappointing let down.

Scenario 1

You're at the gym, ready to get your sweat on. You strip off your hoodie, coat, sweats, and are ready to get it in like FloJo on the treadmill that you specifically picked out for its location - bordered by the mirrored wall, of course. You place your water bottle in the water bottle holder, you re-tie your sneakers to make sure your feets are ready to fly for at least 4 miles, the ipod is set to your "work-it-out" playlist, towel is swung over the data panel so you don't have to stare at the clock while time passes ever so slowly as you trudge along for 30 minutes. You is red to go.

You press "Quick Start" on the machine. Nothing. The damn thing is broken! So now you have to pack up all your shizz and find another machine that is free and set it up all over again. Ugh!

Scenario 2

You're at the office and just saw the most hilarious youtube clip that Jake forwarded you. Upon summoning your co-workers to huddle around your desk to peep the hilarity, you are greeted by a blank web page and/or an error message. After a few minutes of awkward silence while waiting for the page to load, your co-workers slowly slink away one by one and ask you to let them know when the site is up. Boo.

Scenario 3

Your favorite tv show is mid-season and every episode is fresh and new. You tivo/dvr this week's episode and hurry home on Friday to finally watch it. Then you realize that tv guide lied to you. This ain't a "new" episode! It's a friggin clip show of what has transpired thus far this season! Boo! You'll have to wait until next week for a true "new" episode.

I have been burned by Top Model many a time. The biggest burn was part one of the series finale of Seinfeld. What a rip!

Scenario 4

You're at your favorite boutique, department store, friend's closet, etc. and have amassed an armful of frocks that you want to try on and hopefully purchase should they fit appropriately. You carefully survey the showroom floor one last time to make sure you didn't miss a garment that you want to try on.

Off you go to the dressing room, de-robe, and reach for your first garment. Dammit! Wrong size! You could have sworn you grabbed an 8, but this thing is clearly meant for a child. Or anorexic. Regardless, it ain't fittin' over your lady lumps. So you reach for the next garment and realize you totally have the wrong undergarments on - it's a slinky strapless number and you have on an over the shoulder boulder holder and granny panties. Boo!

I usually am so frustrated at this point I storm out of there and head to the nearest shoe store, where I know I am prepared to try stuff on. Although in my big footed case they rarely have my size so I am forced to window shop, buy accessories, and go home to my closest to take my pick of re-runs. Tragic.

New Years (w)E(a)ve

December is amongst us and folks are starting to get serious about their New Year's Eve plans (my preparation involves getting my hair did, thus explaining this post's title).

What are you planning? I have a feeling that most folks are so amped for 2009, the celebrations need not be spectacular or over the top as prior years. Simply celebrating in one's home in gleeful anticipation of what the new year (specifically, post-January 20th) will bring seems apropos, especially in light of the economy and such.

Now that I am semi-settled in Seattle, I have decided to make the two-hour drive north to America Junior for my new year's eve festivities. I have never been to Canada, and seeing as how Vancouver is uber cheap (.70/$1US) I'd be silly not to go. Before I pull the trigger and book my accomodations (4 star hotel for $65/night!), I had to comparison shop and flush out other NYE options:

1. Vegas. Yawn. I have never been a fan of sin city.

Pros: lots of party options

Cons: Casinos are gross, the clubs are pricey, it's cold, and a high probability of running into Paris Hilton. Yuck.

2. NYC. Tons of fun, but I am biased because 60% of my bff's live in the city and surrounding burroughs.

Pros: my main b's are there, lots of options to party.

Cons: everyone else in the universe will be there.

3. LA. Never been to a club in LA for NYE, but I'm guessing they will be overpriced and full of wannabes, posers, and Bill Mahr.

Pros: my family will be there and the weather is mild.

Cons: my family will be there. Jokes! But real talk, I like to get a lil crazy on NYE, far from the watchful eye of mother (and brother).

4. Philly

Pros: Everything.

Cons: Flight time, and it'll be frosty.

5. Miami

Pros: the weather, tan situation.

Cons: flight time, hotel/party expenses, crappy music.

6. Atlanta

Pros: One of the Real Housewives may be at your party.

Cons: One of the Real Housewives may be at your party.

7. DC

Pros: the city will be brimming with excitement due to the upcoming inauguration.

Cons: you are likely going for the inauguration so save your duckets.

8. Chicago

Pros: you may be able to celebrate with Barack and fam before they move on up to the white house.

Cons: you'll freeze your nads off in the process.

9. Destination (anywhere outside the U.S. sans Canada)

Pros: you won't be in America.

Cons: you'll likely come out of pocket hard core. And no one wants to greet 2009 broke(r).

10. The crib.

Pros: low cost, and you can drink to your hearts desire without fear of a DUI or a beer-goggle induced makeout session at midnight.

Cons: Reduced chance of a beer-goggle induced makeout session at midnight.

Whatever you choose, make sure your NYE is swexy, safe, and fun!

Smooches,

KB

Fanksgiving

I am thankful for so many things...family, friends, my naturally arched eyebrows, the president-elect, my health, my iphone, etc. What about you?

As I sit at home, waiting for my brother to return from a jog on the beach so we can get down to thanksgiving bid-ness, I started to ponder what in the hell I will say I am thankful for during prayer prior to dinner:

1. Mama Belle. I forgot to pack my jewelry bag for my trip home. If I didn't have such a fierce mum, I would have panicked, as I feel naked without a pair of pearls on by day, door-knockers by night. However, I simply informed mother of my fashion faux pas, and before you could say Chanel, moms came in with her huge stash of gorgeous accessories. After perusing the pretty things for an hour or so, I was dripping in fierce borrowed jewels for a night out in LA. The best part? She let me keep some of them! Best mom ever.

2. Beyonce. Everyone is well aware that I have been a loyal fan of this lady for years. I am thankful she is back on the scene with a new record. But I would be even more thankful if Santa brought her a speech therapist for Christmas. I made the mistake of tuning into The Tyra Show during the interview portion. Jesus, take the wheel. Just shake it and sing please. We all have our roles in life.

3. Swagger. It's difficult to describe, but I like to call it an undefined air of confidence with a side of sexy. So really it's swexy. Anywhether, I can't get enough. Especially when the swagger is accompanied by a yummy set of lips. (Jake, I'll give you the deets over cocktails, via webcam.)

4. Michelle Obama. I've posted about 'Chelle before, but this is an update. I am so thankful that she is who she is, and is loved by an equally amazing man. Tall, educated, and strong.

5. New friends. Now that I'm in my 3rd corner (or is it 4th? does Jamaica count as an uber-southern corner?) of the U.S. I, for the first time, had to start from scratch in the friends game. Definitely a challenge - even for a social b-fly like Kb. Luckily, I have amassed a pretty dope squad thus far. One day, I'm going to have a KB friends reunion and everyone will meet, greet,
drink, and swap embarrassing KB stories (Philly will likely win that race).

And finally, I am thankful for my big brother. He turns the big 3-0 today and I am so blessed to be the Lisa to his Bart. He just returned from his jog, and on his way to the laundry room to throw in his sweaty workout gear, he asked me if I had anything that needed to be washed. But this is how he asked: "Have any darks? Besides your elbows and neck."

That, my friends, is love. Happy Birthday big bro!


Happy Thanksgiving kids.

Smooches!

KB

Venti Please!

I don't normally go to Starbucks. I am not a big coffee drinker and I find Starbucks to be a confusing cultish place where people speek a special language and are part ridiculously happy and part super bitchy. I wouldn't be surprised if it turns out that Starbucks is Scientology church. I have no proof, but I'm just saying.

Any way, today I had some. I don't know why. I think it had something to do with my outfit. I felt very urban, very fashion forward, very Paris, very gay chic with my little murse, cardigan and new scarf. I new it was super gay because this lesbian passerby looked at me like she was going to kick my ass!

I have been feeling funny since Barack became Prez. I find myself becoming a hippie. A white hippie no less. Maybe this election will finally result in assimilation? I feel like I have to behave a certain way now. Like the stigma has been lifted and excuses removed and expectations elevated. I might even have to go green. It can't be too hard, I was a raw foodist for a week!

In any event, I had a pumpkin spice latte soy grande (or was it soy spicey grande latte)? Whatever it was, it was delicious and I am hooked! I was feigning for my next fix before I finished my first one and I was regretting the decision to get the grande instead of the venti. I always get the grande because I think people will judge me if I get the venti. That doesn't stop me from getting the obnoxiously large sized drink at Jamba Juice, but I have convinced myself that that's different because its healthy (or possibly healthy).

The point is that I am now a Scientologists. I can't wait to try the water next time I go in (as soon as I finish this post), I hear Madonna loves it! Wait, is that Kaballah? I might be that too. Is it no longer okay to call Modonna Madge?

Oh, it was a grande pumpkin spice soy latte. Delicious.

Hello Pot, I am Kettle!

I am pretty out of it. I hardly keep track of appointments and barely check my email and there's no good reason for it. It's a problem particularly at work. However, today I decided to do better. I decided to attend a training session taught by my mentor. You know, it's always good to show face (especially one as cute and done up as mine) every once in a while. And, it's not like I was doing anything anyways.

I go to my meeting and as soon as I sit myself down to learn THE SHIT HITS THE FAN. Thus I present to you the FRIDAY CRAZIES!!!

I get a text from my friend, who earlier this year had a nose job. He wanted to get rid of what he called his "Jew nose." He loved his new nose and wassn't shy about showing it off using pictures of old and new nose. Then his Dr. convinced him to let him tweak the nose just a bit to make it even better. Now, with that background I present to you the following blackberry messager exchanges:

Friend: I hate my new/old nose! I am so upset right now! I wanna cry!
Me: Why? Maybe it's just swollen. It's temporary.
Friend: You have no idea how dissapointed I am, it really looks bad, I'm so screwed!
Me: Oh no! Have him put it back to the way it was.
Friend: I look like a freak! I'm not going to be able to leave the house!!! He can't put it back. He is an idiot and I am an idiot for letting him do it. I can't, I'can't...***tears, ***sniffle.
Me: It can't be that bad, I am sure it's just different. You'll get used to it.
Friend: I am just worried my BF won't like it.
Me: Are you serious!? He loves you as you are and your nose won't make a bit of difference.
Friend: Whatever, if he doesn't "like" me anymore because of this shit, then it wasn't right from the get go.
Me: You are a silly girl.
Friend: Yeah, Kinda.
Me: Bless your heart.
Friend: Oh, Please bless my nose.

Time passes

Friend: Ok, I may have been a little quick to judge, it's still swollen, I'll have to wait another month before I can officially say that I hate it, overall I am still beautiful.
Friend: And I should only accept those who care about me as a nice person, besides, my next patient (50 year old lady) has a crush on me!
Me: Because you are a nice person?

Now, just as soon as this conversation jumps off I get a text from another friend!

Me: Are you home? Work depresses me. Let's hang out.
Friend: No. I thought I would see a walk in shrink. Been here 10 minutes and I'm already pissed off.
Me: Wait, there are walk in shrinks!? Why don't you just talk to me. I can be a shrink. Maybe better than a lawyer.
Friend: At St. Vincent's there are, they said there is a wait so I thought I would stay until I get sick of waiting.
Me: (other friend) doesn't like his new nose.
Friend: OH NO! He better leave this nose job alone and let it be his last. If he keeps going he's going to look like cat woman. And btw, I've been here 30 minutes and I hate the front desk woman. That along with the other crazys is making me rethink my intake form. I may add homicidal to the list.
Me: NO!!! I'll give you a lorazapam. It will calm you down!
Friend: Oh god! One of the CPs (Crazy people) just got all agitated by his wait time and was acting up, I fear this may insite a riot. If I text 911, leave work and meet me in the safe house....with a brownie if you have time.
Me: I can't take it. Am going to faint.
Friend: You should see me! I keep laughing out loud and I think the CPs have accepted me as one of their own! This couldn't be a worse misunderstanding!
Friend: To make it better, I think the front desk ppl think I'm a drugseeker.
Me: This is crazy! Why can't you just go to an AA meeting!?
Friend: I am not an alcoh0lic.
Me: Whatever, it's free therapy and you don't need an appointment....AND they might have brownies.

It doesn't stop there...midway through all of this I get an IM from another friend (randomly)!

Friend: You're right. I'm totally in love with Mike Little

Background note: Mike is this chubby guy that my friend always hangs out with. I would call him fatty in this post, but she already has a fatty in her life and I already have a chubs, and fatty magoo is taken, so we are just creating an actual name for this guy. In any event, I have been teasing her about being in love with this guy for a while, but she is too vain to date him because he's chubbers mcflubbers (oh, look at that).

Me: OH.MY.GOD.
Friend: It's okay. I am not going to do anything.
Me: OH!! MY!! GOD!!! I didn't believe it until you just said it!! Why wouldn't you do anything? He's totally in love with you too and you know it.
Friend: Not true. He has a girlfriend. We're out with a girlfriend of mine and he's so sweet with her. Which made me realize how much I like him. But maybe it's like how I love you.
Me: You love me like you love a fat person!? How could you say that to me?
Friend: I have to go.
Me: Wait, do you or do you not love me the same way you love a fat person? Are you calling me fat!?

Eventually, my meeting would end. But, I swear all of this was too much for an hour long presentation. It's like, why did all the crazies start acting up at the same time and during the same hour when I actually had something to do.

And, if you are reading this and don't know any of these people they are all as dramatic as they sound. You may think they are exagerating, but they are not. We are all this dramatic, this vain and this ridiculous.

Thank God for the Blackberry! I had three different real time conversations via 3 different mediams (bb messenger, google talk and text) all the while "learning" about: indubitable equivalent, impairment, confirmation and who knows what else. These are just some words I picked up during all the texting.

What a Friday!

I am not mean, I am honest.

Do you think I am fat?

This is a question I never want to hear.  Ever.  And, I don't know why anyone would ask me this question.  It's like my truth serum.  I can avoid questions and sugarcoat answers with the best of them but I just can't put lipstick on a pig.  

Recently, I had a date ask me if I thought he was fat.  My initial thought was Godamit, can he read my mind?  Or, do I have my you are fat face on?  In any event, he asked.  Once the question was posed my head almost exploded with thoughts.  I wanted to be nice and I wanted to be honest.  

So what came out of my mouth was both:  "No, I don't think you are fat, but I do think you are gay fat."

Excellent.  What is gay fat?  I think everyone knows what gay fat is:  Mary Kate plus/minus 5.  Why did I think he was gay fat?  First, he was.  Second, he used to be fatter.  Third, he wasn't trying to lose weight.  Me, myself, personally?  I think that number 3 is a problem by itself.  As a gay you should almost always be on some kind of diet and trying to lose weight or build muscle or something.  If not, you are gay fat.  Truthfully, you're gay fat even if you are doing all of those things.  

You see, fat is literally like the Devil.  The devil may not exist, but damnit if you are not scared of going to hell.  Even if I am not fat and am not close to being fat, I am pretty damn scared of getting there.  So I like to give half of my sandwiches to the homeless thus avoiding fat and hell. 

I also have problems with guys that used to be obese.  Someone knew you when you were big and that person will think that I am dating a fat boy.  My record is clean.  I once skirted close to a 34, but was a solid 31 after a quick 3 day juice fast and 4 enemas.   I feel like we should have been able to date at any point, but that can't be the case if your nickname used to be bigstuff.  Although, if there is an alternate explanation for the nickname we can talk.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to the gym.