Deathfat Encounters IRL -

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TrainWreckSpotter

kiwifarms.net
I've seen multiple videos of "size-positive" people, which I guess is code for people who're proud of being fat, showing their candy drawers at home or work, and they're always something ridiculous in the style of 10 lb of sweets etc. Some of those cows point out that the stash is "only for emergencies", but their close proximity always to the area the cow in question spends most of her time in, makes it rather obvious that they're having a lot of continuous emergencies and I bet that the stash is refilled on a weekly, if not daily, basis. In contrast, when I stock up for "emergencies" I put things high up in a place I rarely visit so that the emergency preparedness material doesn't interfere with my daily life.
A lot of it has to do with social media. Back in the day, a deathfat stood out in their community. They couldn't relate to average sized people, they had a single voice, so what what was there too be proud about? Now, they can reach out globally and find each other and start forming their own communities. They can relate to each other, share similar experiences, and now they are validated and in their minds it's normalized. Next thing you know, there's a movement. Whenever a super morbidly obese person posts on IG, there are hundreds more super morbidly obese that respond with "You go, girl!' To make matters worse, people who have struggled with dieting now reject the "diet culture" and embrace becoming superfats themselves.

The worst part is, they have become so emboldened that they not only want to be accepted but expect to be accommodated at every turn. The bariatric businesses are booming.
 
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Awkward Aardvark

kiwifarms.net
who's the cow in your picture?
I've been planning to introduce her to the entire deathfat forum once I gather enough information of her. But in brief, her name is Esther Filderman and she currently lives in Ann Arbor, Michigan, but she's from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania where she's been trying to move back to for years. Her most frequent alter egos are "Mizmoose" and "Moose Finkelstein". She uses the former on Reddit and Twitter, and the latter on LinkedIn. She also has another reddit account. I now know that she was born in 1964 to a Jewish family, both parents deceased, she has no spouse/children, she's 5"4' tall and weighs 250 lb - 300 lb (BMI: 43 - 52), her clothing size is 3XL - 4XL, she's disabled due to her arm and leg, and is suffering from diabetes (both T1 and T2) and anemia on top of her morbid obesity. I haven't released my full writeup of her yet, because I can't find her Instagram account. It is NOT any of the aliases above. I've been unable to find it despite googling like mad. I know it exist, because she has referred to it by basically calling people names elsewhere on social media who dare to follow her on Instagram and who're not obese.
 

Ol Dirty Fatso

assigned fashion police at birth
kiwifarms.net
I've seen multiple videos of "size-positive" people, which I guess is code for people who're proud of being fat, showing their candy drawers at home or work, and they're always something ridiculous in the style of 10 lb of sweets etc. Some of those cows point out that the stash is "only for emergencies", but their close proximity always to the area the cow in question spends most of her time in, makes it rather obvious that they're having a lot of continuous emergencies and I bet that the stash is refilled on a weekly, if not daily, basis. In contrast, when I stock up for "emergencies" I put things high up in a place I rarely visit so that the emergency preparedness material doesn't interfere with my daily life.
The idea of eating junk food as a way to cope with "emergencies" is why people get obese in the first place. Normal type 1 diabetics will drink a glass of juice or glucose syrup if they get hypoglycemic, not snack on candy all fucking day.
 

Shpongle

kiwifarms.net
It was in Europe. Can't tell you more than that or the country would become obvious. I no-longer live in Europe - moved to North America a long time ago.
I was also in the military in a European country, probably a different one. Was this for your basic training? In my country during your application you have to have the full medical exam and if your BMI says overweight you're not passed fit to begin basic until your BMI is healthy. There are some exceptions, as the fatties like to remind us "BMI IS NOT AN ACCURATE MEASURE OF HEALTH!!!". Which is true to a degree, having a lot of muscle makes you heavier and in those cases the doctor will measure your waist, chest and stomach and make a determination as to whether the extra weight is from muscle or fat. You have to strip for your exam so it's usually pretty obvious if it's fat or muscle. So it seems strange because it's pretty much impossible for you to start basic here if you're overweight.

I've certainly seen fat people in the military though, usually people who've been in a long time and we have a shortage of senior ranks and NCOs so even if their fitness isn't up to snuff the military is hesitant to get rid of them because retention is bad as it is. And that's usually for roles that aren't frontline combat, I've never seen a fat infantryman or marine, usually roles like engineers, chefs and logistics. Even then they're usually just normal fat, rather than deathfat. Crazy world.
 

Awkward Aardvark

kiwifarms.net
Okay guys and gals, here's another entry from Awkward Aardvark's Deathfat Diaries (tm). Several years ago we were visited by my spouse's friend and his wife, whom we hadn't seen in years. We did know in advance that the husband was normalish weight, but the wife was heavy and thought that it may lead into a problem, but we just weren't sure and felt too awkward to ask in advance. Once they came over it became immediately apparent that we were dealing with a deathfat with strange body proportions, almost cartoonishly imitating the superglue eating character from this video. We had plenty of food so that wasn't the problem, however, we didn't have chairs to accommodate her. When she entered the house and saw our chairs she immediately complimented them nonetheless, since the chairs didn't have any armrests so she had an easy time sitting down and getting back up. So we thought, what the hell, she can sit in one of those chairs and eat. Big mistake. Immediately when she sat down the chair made an unhappy creaking sound that we pretended not to hear and about 30 mins later one of its legs broke off and she landed on the floor. Trying to be decent hosts, we apologized profusely and lied to her that that chair in particular was already weak/partially broken and hence she can just sit in another one and it'll be okay. Another big mistake. She did, and while this chair didn't creak when she sat down, it gave away nonetheless about 30 minutes after being sat on by her. After falling on the floor for the second time she turns bright red and whispers something to her husband. He leaves, and I'm thinking "fuck, she got hurt and now they plan to sue us". Luckily, nope, the husband comes back a few minutes with a ginormous camping chair and she moves to happily sit on it, takes the plate on her lap, and continues eating.

What was almost comical is that I've run into her once or twice after this incident and every time I do she's sitting and eating cookies or cake and making comments of the style "I normally don't eat like this, but since it's a party I've decided to indulge". I mean, come on, you can't possibly be that size unless you indulge yourself every single fucking day. Even at my house she made similar comments that I ignored, because I don't track how much or what I eat either, and I also really don't care. Her husband told me at another gathering that she needs to be accommodated by extra heavy duty chairs and that ours wasn't the first chair she has broken. However, A more frequent problem with her is that she can't fit into a chair at all due to the arm rests, which is why they haul a camping chair with them everywhere they go. After she had left I double checked at IKEA's website and turns out that those chairs have a listed weight limit of 220 lb + tolerance, which is probably another 20 pounds or so. This woman is very short, but she weighs around 300 lb and literally looks like a ball with unbelievably skimpy arms and legs. I suspect that my chairs partially failed because she couldn't touch the ground with her feet and she kept dangling her feet the entire time she was sitting down and eating, kind of like she would be sitting on a fucking swing. What's sad is that the couple wanted to have kids for at least a decade, but it never happened because of her (alleged) PCOS and hypothyroidism, so they ended up adopting instead. Before anyone asks, they didn't pay for the two chairs that she broke, but we got them for about $30/each so it wasn't exactly a huge financial loss.
 

The Heartthrob

get lost you hobo ass bitch
kiwifarms.net
This thread is actually pretty tragic. Lots of great reads though. I joined to share a few of mine too.

Back in high school, there was this one chick I knew through mutual friends that was easily 400-500lbs. She seemed pretty cool at the time and I didn't judge her for it. But after a while there was some kind of dumb teenage fallout and she started acting like a huge bitch to my friends and I, no pun intended. I inevitably jumped on the bandwagon of talking shit about her because of that until I switched schools later in the year and never saw her again.

That was until just a few years ago. I was watching random episodes of My 600lbs Life on YouTube when I played one episode that took place in my hometown. It's a fairly small town, so I thought it was a pretty cool surprise. It took me a second, but after they introduced the girl in the episode, I realized she was the same girl I went to high school with. She'd gained a lot more weight since then and was dating some weirdo I didn't recognize. In part of her introduction she actually talked about her teenage years and the problems she had (like outgrowing scales intended to weigh humans) and it made sense why she was such an asshole back then. Thankfully she wasn't a typical "it's just water weight" whale on the show and worked hard, even relocating to stick with the program. I looked her up on Facebook through those same mutual friends after the episode and saw she managed to keep the weight off and dumped the weird guy. So it was a happy ending overall.
 

Hammond

kiwifarms.net
All of this made me remember a work colleague from around a decade ago. I don't even know how to guess at her weight. If anyone wants to take a stab she was 5'9 and built almost exactly like Amberlynn. She had a seamstress make her clothes and work uniforms. We once got 2-tone golf shirts to wear for some kind of promotion and she ordered the largest size available (5XL) and had to have her seamstress match one of the colours and put a 20cm panel in each side that ran up the side and through the underside of the sleeves.

She would keep tins of sweetened condensed milk in the fridge for her coffee and a few times I saw her dollop the stuff into her mug and then eat spoonfuls straight from the tin (she would laugh if you caught her and say she couldn't help it because it tasted so good).

She once asked me to watch the phone so she could quickly go to the bakery next door to buy a cake because they were having company over after work and came back with an enormous chocolate cake covered with chocolate ganache and filled and topped with dulce de leche. She said she wanted to have a little piece while still at work and the family / guests wouldn't know because she'd slice it up in the kitchen and bring the individual plates out to the table (it was weird because she explained this plan to me like she was justifying it or almost asking for permission? I was just like whatever, it's not my business if you want to eat your cake that you bought). She then went back for another piece. Then another. Then decided there wasn't enough cake left for everyone who was coming for dinner, finished the entire thing and went to buy another one during her lunch break to take home.

She and her husband once decided to diet and lose weight together. They'd have oatmeal for breakfast, she'd pack salads for their lunches and make grilled meat, veggies, etc. for dinner. He lost weight because he just ate what he was given and was puzzled that she stayed fat. She would eat second breakfast on her way to work, have her condensed milk coffee all day, supplement her salad with burgers or pizza or fried chicken and have something on her way home. I know this because she'd stash the drive-through packets in her car and throw them away at work so he wouldn't see them. She told us that she couldn't lose the weight because PCOS and metabolism. Cue sceptical faces all round.

Surprisingly, she had a kid who was a normal weight. I heard through the grapevine after I transferred to another branch that she'd had weight loss surgery, lost a bunch of weight but then put it all back on. I haven't thought about her in years. I hope she got her shit together but I think that's being hopelessly optimistic.
 

Razimataz

kiwifarms.net
Amber was one of the best stories. I felt so heartbroken for her when her dad had to wheel her through the airport on that big luggage thing and people were taking videos and stuff. She was too young to feel like that
Yes, she is a true success story. She doesn't post much on Insta but she seems to be doing well with maintaining her weight loss. Her story was one of the best because she seemed to be very real and truthful and was dedicated to realizing her goals.
 

Red Velvet Frappe

kiwifarms.net
Loli shirts? Like those ones that were popular for a bit mostly as a meme? Like the tights Lori Cerda wears? Was it an ahegao shirt? The stinky folds with french fries reminds me of those reddit threads about horrifying fat people like the one who was left in her own shit for months. I'm sure that woman needed intensive skincare beyond what an assistant could even do. She needed to be washed and creamed with every antimicrobial in the book.
It was the one with the ahegao shirts. He had like a rotating pair of them, one a hoodie and the other was a jacket.


I'm now down memory lane, back to my old CNA days. I've worked in the worst state nursing homes in the boondocks you can imagine, for example I was threatened by a baby man wearing a diaper while in my car while waiting for my paycheck before I maced him through the crack in my window.

I'll talk about Judith. Judith's legs worked at some point, but no longer did they work. This death fat was one of the smaller land whales, maybe only 450-500, but it was all wrapped around her middle and face. Similar to a little nightmare ghoul, fat arms, jiggling jowls, a well kept grey Karen haircut and a massive middle. It was damn freaky to pull the blankets off her and see these little stick legs.

Judith was a cunt. She was one of those people who I think has kids to abuse them. Her daughter did the bare minimum, and I'm going to say guilt made her deal with her at all because when her daughter Pam had a breakdown, she confessed things that her mother had done to her - mentally, physical and emotionally abusive.

This massive land whale was mentally there, she was just mean. Scream at CNAs, call Pam and scream and berate her for anything like her food being cold, not having pudding, a wrinkle in her bedsheet. I had nightmares about her shrieking about her bedsheets having wrinkles. I saw Pam flinch when Judith just made the motion to back hand her, and to this day, I hope she's miserable but I think she died. Probably alone.

She sat for months, never getting up. Over time, she stewed and became meaner and meaner. Judith developed a bedsore before I got there due to her refusal to move, and it was the size of a dime. Not deep. Apparently due to her immobility before I came there at another nursing home, the bedsore was big as a small saucer plate, and one could shove a fist into the mass cavern and move it freely. Flex it in a circle.

She would call the nursing home and complain, and as a big, "fuck you" the nursing home collaborated with the rehab center they had attached, and they made her get up. I've never heard such screaming and whining, and they did it out of spite for making their lives miserable. If you're gonna bitch about getting bed sores, then you're going to get up and move to prevent them.

She was a abusive heifer, and I never faulted Pam for putting her in a nursing home. Complained how terrible it was, and in the end, it was karma that took away her way to physically beat her daughter.
 

chickenbutt

Fetch my deworming pills, Dr Bojangles
kiwifarms.net
It was the one with the ahegao shirts. He had like a rotating pair of them, one a hoodie and the other was a jacket.


I'm now down memory lane, back to my old CNA days. I've worked in the worst state nursing homes in the boondocks you can imagine, for example I was threatened by a baby man wearing a diaper while in my car while waiting for my paycheck before I maced him through the crack in my window.

I'll talk about Judith. Judith's legs worked at some point, but no longer did they work. This death fat was one of the smaller land whales, maybe only 450-500, but it was all wrapped around her middle and face. Similar to a little nightmare ghoul, fat arms, jiggling jowls, a well kept grey Karen haircut and a massive middle. It was damn freaky to pull the blankets off her and see these little stick legs.

Judith was a cunt. She was one of those people who I think has kids to abuse them. Her daughter did the bare minimum, and I'm going to say guilt made her deal with her at all because when her daughter Pam had a breakdown, she confessed things that her mother had done to her - mentally, physical and emotionally abusive.

This massive land whale was mentally there, she was just mean. Scream at CNAs, call Pam and scream and berate her for anything like her food being cold, not having pudding, a wrinkle in her bedsheet. I had nightmares about her shrieking about her bedsheets having wrinkles. I saw Pam flinch when Judith just made the motion to back hand her, and to this day, I hope she's miserable but I think she died. Probably alone.

She sat for months, never getting up. Over time, she stewed and became meaner and meaner. Judith developed a bedsore before I got there due to her refusal to move, and it was the size of a dime. Not deep. Apparently due to her immobility before I came there at another nursing home, the bedsore was big as a small saucer plate, and one could shove a fist into the mass cavern and move it freely. Flex it in a circle.

She would call the nursing home and complain, and as a big, "fuck you" the nursing home collaborated with the rehab center they had attached, and they made her get up. I've never heard such screaming and whining, and they did it out of spite for making their lives miserable. If you're gonna bitch about getting bed sores, then you're going to get up and move to prevent them.

She was a abusive heifer, and I never faulted Pam for putting her in a nursing home. Complained how terrible it was, and in the end, it was karma that took away her way to physically beat her daughter.

Yeah - normally the idea of old people withering away, neglected in subpar nursing homes, is one that makes me incredibly sad. On this occasion I can honestly say I'm completely fine with it. I hope that bitch had no-one at the end.

Poor Pam :heart-empty:(:_(

Some of your other stories sound like they'd be amazing, though. I want more diaper baby man stories.
 

DunGoofed

kiwifarms.net
Two people in particular were especially horrific experiences.

The first guy was probably 5’0”, 300 lbs. He was a coworker at an old railcar plant job. Amidst the stench of burning metals, cigarette smoke and a warehouse full of roughly 100 sweaty welders, his pungent cheeto rot BO defiled my innocent nostrils to a whole new degree. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I can only describe it as hot sour milk, rotten flesh, soggy doritos and unwashed scrote cheese. Every time he walked by, my eyes watered and had to compose myself in order to not projectile vomit.

The runner up for most awful stench is this other guy who was friends with my cousin. This dude’s room was foul. Rancid. Unholy. We were in a small house, and walked down the hall way to look at something on his computer, and not even halfway down the hall, the smell of the room was hitting me already… it smelled like hot grease and death. Inside the bedroom were KFC boxes stacked to the ceiling, and I was enveloped by the overwhelming, pungent stench of greasy KFC, unwashed ass, feet, and rotting flesh. I tried not to be rude, but I couldn’t help from physically gagging and gasping for air— I was about to puke. I had to make my escape and get out of there
 

The Heartthrob

get lost you hobo ass bitch
kiwifarms.net
I'm now down memory lane, back to my old CNA days. I've worked in the worst state nursing homes in the boondocks you can imagine, for example I was threatened by a baby man wearing a diaper while in my car while waiting for my paycheck before I maced him through the crack in my window.
Dude, this reminds me of one of the stories I didn't even think to share.

When I was really young, our next door neighbors were these two adult men. One had an average build and seemed to be the breadwinner of the house and the other was a MASSIVE fatass. The fat guy was an ABDL coomer, who we also nicknamed baby man. He used to sit in his front yard in full baby garb (think Tommy Pickles), where all of the kids in the neighborhood could see him. My parents threatened to kick his ass a few times and I recall him stopping after that.

What makes it particularly disturbing is that I remember hearing that one of the older kids in the neighborhood was lured into baby man's house to help out with something while the other guy was gone and he asked if she could change his diaper. I was too young to really understand the full weight of the situation and I don't remember what happened after that. Which might be for the better. :cryblood: Not my only story with a pedo deathfat unfortunately.
 

Pocket_Sand!

The sand is not in my pockets, but in my soul.
True & Honest Fan
kiwifarms.net
It was the one with the ahegao shirts. He had like a rotating pair of them, one a hoodie and the other was a jacket.


I'm now down memory lane, back to my old CNA days. I've worked in the worst state nursing homes in the boondocks you can imagine, for example I was threatened by a baby man wearing a diaper while in my car while waiting for my paycheck before I maced him through the crack in my window.

I'll talk about Judith. Judith's legs worked at some point, but no longer did they work. This death fat was one of the smaller land whales, maybe only 450-500, but it was all wrapped around her middle and face. Similar to a little nightmare ghoul, fat arms, jiggling jowls, a well kept grey Karen haircut and a massive middle. It was damn freaky to pull the blankets off her and see these little stick legs.

Judith was a cunt. She was one of those people who I think has kids to abuse them. Her daughter did the bare minimum, and I'm going to say guilt made her deal with her at all because when her daughter Pam had a breakdown, she confessed things that her mother had done to her - mentally, physical and emotionally abusive.

This massive land whale was mentally there, she was just mean. Scream at CNAs, call Pam and scream and berate her for anything like her food being cold, not having pudding, a wrinkle in her bedsheet. I had nightmares about her shrieking about her bedsheets having wrinkles. I saw Pam flinch when Judith just made the motion to back hand her, and to this day, I hope she's miserable but I think she died. Probably alone.

She sat for months, never getting up. Over time, she stewed and became meaner and meaner. Judith developed a bedsore before I got there due to her refusal to move, and it was the size of a dime. Not deep. Apparently due to her immobility before I came there at another nursing home, the bedsore was big as a small saucer plate, and one could shove a fist into the mass cavern and move it freely. Flex it in a circle.

She would call the nursing home and complain, and as a big, "fuck you" the nursing home collaborated with the rehab center they had attached, and they made her get up. I've never heard such screaming and whining, and they did it out of spite for making their lives miserable. If you're gonna bitch about getting bed sores, then you're going to get up and move to prevent them.

She was a abusive heifer, and I never faulted Pam for putting her in a nursing home. Complained how terrible it was, and in the end, it was karma that took away her way to physically beat her daughter.

Ah nursing homes, there's a little set of institutions that'll make you want to put a gun barrel in your mouth. Nursing homes are usually awe inspiringly depressing, back when I was on the Fire Department/Rescue Squad, we'd get called to a number of local nursing homes to move residents to hospitals, move them to other facilities, or in some cases, haul them to the county morgue. Seriously fucking depressing most of the time, I lost count of how many abandoned old people I dealt with over the years, some of who's family hadn't been to visit in years, but this woman wasn't one of those cases.

Kathryn was 38 when I first met her, and she was an absolute cow, nothing in this bitch's miserable life was ever good enough, and she let her husband and the staff of the Henry County Nursing Home know it. She was 5 feet 5 inches tall and around 550 lbs, very bottom heavy and truly disgusting. Looking back, she was probably a fucking Munchie with all the maladies and ailments she supposedly had, and she DEMANDED transport to the hospital all the time, sometimes two or three times a month for the stupidest shit imaginable. Once we transported her because of an ingrown toenail (she absolutely could not reach her feet) causing her "extreme pain" and "keeping her from walking" (bitch didn't walk anyway). Apparently this became an issue at 3 am for some ungodly reason and we hauled her 60 inch wide ass down to the big hospital in the city. For an ingrown toenail... the receiving Dr just stood there mouth agape while we unloaded her.

Supposedly she was in the nursing home in the first place because she'd had a terrible miscarriage some years before, and she needed constant care in the aftermath of it. Her husband spared no expense, having food delivered to the home, bringing food himself, showering her with snacks and drinks constantly, she had a refrigerator in her room, as well as a rolling snack cupboard filled with junk food. She had her own private nurses, hired from outside the home (they turned over constantly having to deal with Kathryn all the time) her own errand runners, and had what I assume was the equivalent of a suite in a nursing home. We dealt with her on a pretty regular basis, and I honestly have no idea how her private nurses, or the home staff put up with her, she was incredibly abusive. Screaming at staff, hitting them if they got close enough, and throwing stuff at people that offended her. Any time we transported her, she'd screech at the top of her lungs that we were killing her when we moved her onto the gurney. She'd swing her fat arms wildly, trying to hit us (she refused to move on her own for any reason) and call her husband over and over saying we were abusing her. And she got heavier every time we moved her, and she got dirtier. She refused to roll over for bathing, wouldn't shower or bathe in her suite's bathroom with a huge walk in shower because she said she couldn't move to get there. I think she legit enjoyed shitting and pissing herself and forcing the staff to clean it up. Getting her clean was a daily struggle according to the home staff, with Kathryn screaming and hitting everyone she could while those poor nurses cleaned her rancid body. She eventually developed terrible bed sores and infections from deliberately lying in her own filth all the time. The last time we transported her, she weighed 635 lbs and smelled worse than anything I've ever smelled in my life, you could literally smell this woman rotting alive. I honestly can't type in what the nurse told us about cleaning her underbelly/crotch/ass area, because it makes me feel like passing out, but I can say that it involved tons of pus, blood, scabs, bed sore craters, fungus, and shit and piss. She was septic when we moved her that fall, and she lived to May the next year in the hospital, all the while her husband enduring her screaming, crying about not getting any food, not getting the treats she wanted, and him smuggling them in for her. Her last private nurse said that when she died, she had candy bars hidden under various folds and her giant pancake fat tits. She'd gone into the ICU of a premier hospital in the Chicago area, literally rotting alive, and weighing 635 lbs. When she died and they hauled her out of there, she weighed just over 700 lbs. Somehow, her husband managed to smuggle in enough junk food so she could pack on another 70+ lbs in 6 months, while fucking septic...
 
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