Tag: blogging

British Columbia, Blogger Buds, and Busted Biking

Holy shit, I’m literally the worst. I haven’t blogged in what feels like foreeeeeeever. I also haven’t read any blogs in probably even longer. I’ll be amazed if any of you are still here. I wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t.

I had a long list of several excuses for my behavior, but I figured I’d spare you. Let’s just get to it!

Today, as it’s Thursday, can you guess what I have for you? Yup. A travel post. And not just a travel post, this is the travel post.

Why is that, you ask?

Well, I got to meet one of my absolute favorite bloggers and one of the nicest humans on this planet while on my latest travel adventure.

Josy from A Walk and a Lark so very kindly offered to host my friend, Melissa and I when we were in Vancouver over spring break. So not only did I get to meet this fine lady, she put us up in her super cute condo for two nights. It was amazing, ya’ll.

We had such a blast on our trip. We flew to Seattle for a night, took the ferry to Victoria, stayed three nights there, and then it was finally time to get to Vancouver to meet Josy.

(I’ll be blogging about our time in beautiful Victoria, so stay tuned. You might have to wait another year, though, so don’t hold your breath. You’ll die.)

We arrived in Vancouver by ferry (Which had a fucking buffet on it, ya’ll. A BUFFET) and Josy picked us up. It was so exciting to see her happy face in real life for the first time!

We first went to her condo to drop off our bags, say ‘hello’ to her hubby Marc, give her super cute kitty, Monty a pet, and then we were quickly off to see our first site.

I think it’s here where I can announce that I’m still recovering from the walking we did in Vancouver. I used to think I was a pretty good walking tourist. I’m fucking not. Like not by a really slow, sweaty mile. There were a few times I truly didn’t think I’d make it and I’d have to embarrassingly ask Josy if she would kindly call me an ambulance.

Melissa felt pretty much the same as me – like an utter wimp compared to Josy. In fact, she remarked, “If you need me when we get home, I’ll be in bed for three days.”

I’m fairly certain Josy didn’t even break a sweat or get out of breath the entire two days of our heavy walking.

And get this, people. She bikes to work and it takes nearly an hour.

This girl is pretty much hero status to me at this point.

Despite how hard us fatties got worked, we had SO MUCH FUN. We’d have never done half of what we did had we not had Josy. She truly made our trip!

I was double-chin-smile-excited to meet Josy, ya’ll

Here’s where we went and what we did:

Granville Island

The super Instagram famous Love Wall

Did you know this isn’t even an island? When I first did research on Vancouver and I saw that Granville Island was a must-do, I envisioned a literal island.

Even though Granville isn’t an island, we did take a boat there. Confused yet?

I will use any excuse to use this fantastic Britney face

Granville Island is a peninsula (it took me three tries to write ‘peninsula’, because my phone really wanted it to be penis) along False Creek (which isn’t really a creek, but an inlet) and across from downtown Vancouver.

It’s known as a shopping district with a lively public market that I think rivals Pike Place in Seattle.

We took a boat, because you can take a water taxi from the part of Vancouver where Josy lives to Granville and why the hell not take a boat whenever possible?!

Our first stop was to find some lunch (That’s all that’s ever really on my mind when I’m on a trip, to be honest- “When is it time to eat something new again that will be delicious af but will most assuredly give me a bad case of the travel trots and/or heartburn?” It’s my favorite. The food, not the runs.)

We settled on trying some Polish fare, where I got some smooshy, cheese-filled pierogi smothered in sour cream and onions. Josy and Melissa settled on sausages. It all tasted pretty amazing to me.

Next, it was time to find a sweet treat, because your dessert stomach is in your heart and mine was empty and aching for something naughty.

We found an amazing crack dealer in the lively market area. Just look at the delectable choices we had:

CANADIAN MAPLE CHEESECAKE
I mean, are those even real?

Guess what I chose?

Yes, I am eight years old. Thank you for asking.
Happy fatty with her prize

Biking Being a Hot Mess at Stanley Park

I learned how to ride a bike right into a prickly bush just like every other five year old first time rider. Also, I own a bike. It hasn’t moved from its spot in the basement in three years, the tires have disintegrated, and there’s a foot of dust covering it, but I own a bike. So, I’m not a total newbie when it comes to biking, but you know that widely known phrase, “Like riding a bike” when referring to something you never forget how to do? Well, when it comes to Inepts it should be “Like wrecking your diet” or something.

It was like I’d never ridden a bike before.

After eating our way through Granville Island, Josy took us to the gorgeous Stanley Park where breathtaking views of the Vancouver skyline and English Bay can be had.

The path winding along the water looked relatively flat, so when renting a bike was mentioned, I momentarily forgot I was not the best on a bike anymore.

(The first time I took my bike out after buying it, I rode around the block precisely once and then had to lay on the couch for the rest of the day.)

My face says, “I’m 100% crashing this thing into a tree.” Also, how flipping cute is Josy? This is her photo, obviously…

Long story short, I almost ran a pedestrian down, because braking, steering, and staying upright all at the same time is impossible for me; I dropped my bike and lost my cake on the road, but I scooped it up and ate it later (not ashamed), and I felt like I was going to legit puke from the exertion of having to pump up two slight inclines (and we hadn’t even started drinking yet). Meanwhile, Josy was just biking along looking like a fucking goddess. She had to constantly stop so her fat tag alongs could breathlessly catch up. Not once did she act like she was embarrassed to be associated with us, even when we looked like this in the helmets (and on the bikes):

You know how when you see other people on bikes, you want to start biking because you want to look exactly like that? Well, you don’t look like that. #hoponthehotmessexpress

WHY DO THE HELMETS LOOK LIKE THAT ON OUR HEADS, THO?

Drinks in Elizabeth Park

After our biking adventure, we really worked up an appetite. We (Melissa and I) smelled like our fat was on fire, so we cleaned up a bit at Josy’s and headed out again. We settled on El Camino- South American street food- for dinner and man, it did not disappoint. We shared three different entrees to maximize the experience for our taste buds, and they were oh-so-very happy, indeed. Along with a cocktail each, we feasted on a charred corn and cotija cheese salad, a barbecued jackfruit sandwich, cheese balls straight from heaven, and cauliflower “wings”. I’m literally considering booking a flight just to go back and eat every single one of those delicacies again.

Check out Josy’s foodie Instagram page for waaaaaay better pictures of our yum yums.

Our deeeeelicous drinks

After one of the most satisfying food experiences of my adult life, we headed to the special place Josy told me we would have to go for amazing views of the city.

I think we got into a bus, but after a cocktail, my memory was a little fuzzy. What I do remember is hiking what felt like Mount Everest to get to our long-awaited views. But, it was just a walking path up a hill through Queen Elizabeth Park and I totally allowed my full ineptness to show. I really didn’t want Josy to know the full extent of my spastic abilities, but here we are.

When we finally made it to Seasons in the Park, it was cocktail time again.

On the way back to Josy’s we had happy hearts, warm bellies full of alcohol, and giggles for days.

When we got on the bus (they don’t wait for everyone to find their seats, because they’ve got places to be and people to see, OK?), I didn’t fully ground myself by grasping at anything sturdy-looking like I was new to walking when the bus took off, and I almost landed in a strange man’s lap. Then, after I bounced against every surface of the bus as I made it back to where Josy and Melissa were sitting, we dared Josy to say “Marc” in an American accent and we officially lost it. I’m still laughing. We were those annoying drunk girls on the bus and it was awesome.

Grouse Mountain

The next day, after a delicious smoothie Josy made us (and toast with my first taste of Marmite, which I don’t hate), we were off again on another day of hijinks. Once we made a pit stop for some craft coffee, we were on the bus bound for the mountains.

Perhaps one of the best things about Grouse Mountain is that you get to ride a gondola up to the resort. I hadn’t been on a gondola since my childhood summers in northern Idaho. It was such a gorgeous ride up. You could see for miles. It was stunning. My pictures 100% don’t do it justice.

The first thing we did on Grouse Mountain was go on a fun, pretty short walk on a loop path. What made the whole process longer was the fact that it took me literally 20 minutes just to make my way down the first half of the walk, because the entire path was in the packed-down snow. Josy just bee-bopped along like she was walking on straight, not slippery ground. She kept looking back and saying, “You’ll be OK. I promise.”

She really hadn’t learned from the previous day that, no, I’d not be OK. The second I thought I could walk on snow like a normal person would be the second I’d be flat on my fat ass.

So, Josy took some snaps of my slow descent, because she had to fill her time waiting for me somehow.

Saying a silent prayer for my tailbone
It was steeper than it looks! I swear!
Slow and whatever-isn’t-offensive-to-say-about-being-physically-not-good-at-anything-that-requires-effort wins at being dead last

After what, I’m sure, felt like an eternity to Josy, I had finally slipped, slid, and crawled the 50 yards down the hill and we came upon an igloo. An igloo, ya’ll. Naturally, we had to crawl in. It was pretty cold and wet and I had to take my backpack off to squeeze my fat ass in through the hole, but how many people can say they’ve climbed into an igloo? It was totally worth the wet knees and freezer burned palms.

How did the Inuit do it??

After chilling (literally) in the igloo, we hiked back and had drinks and some lunch, but not before a quick selfie:

And did you even have lunch drinks if you don’t do a Boomerang and share it all over social media?

https://fattymccupcakes.net/wp-content/uploads/2019/05/3c74e106-3007-4f90-830c-3e58c898928c.mov

After lunch, it was time to head down the mountain. Instead of waiting for the bus, we took off on foot and walked down to a gorgeous spot for pictures:

I’m STRAIGHT OBSESSED with these mountains, y’all!

Lonsdale Quay Market

After a lot more walking and another bus ride, we stopped at Lonsdale Quay Market. There, we got some interesting dipped ice cream and a different view of the Vancouver skyline.

Then, we got on a sea bus to get back to the “other side” of Vancouver (I’m still confused about the three distinct clusters of skyscrapers that look like three separate cities) to snap pics at the wings in Kitsilano:

From here we walked to the beach. We went from snow and mountains to the sand and sunny beach all in one day! What a truly epic day.

Um, hi. I think I love you, Vancouver.

At this point, we were half dead, so Josy paid for a taxi that took us to a sushi joint. It was the perfectly delicious way to end two picture perfect days in Vancouver with someone I don’t consider merely a blogger bud anymore, but a true friend.

My memories of this incredible trip will remain forever in a special place in my heart while the ache in my fat ass will (hopefully) fade.

Josy: Let’s take a cute jumping photo. Katie: *Doesn’t hear ‘cute’*

WTF Wednesday: Rant Life

In an attempt to post more regularly, I thought I’d bring back my WTF Wednesday series. I’m not sure I’ll always have enough WTF rants to fill up every Wednesday slot for the foreseeable future, but I’ll try.

UM, WAIT, WHO ARE WE KIDDING HERE?

Of COURSE I’ll have enough to rant about. Complaining is one of my absolute favorite things to do. (Well, aside from guiltily stuffing my face with enough carbs to feed a small village in one sitting.) And, I seem to always have a complaint or ten on hand. So, buckle up, babes!

I’m going to split up my rants into three categories: What’s Annoying Me Right Now, Are You Fucking Kidding Me?, and Where’s My Xanax? for ease of categorizing my issues.

So, let’s get this party started, eh?

What’s Annoying Me Right Now

So, if you know me personally, it’s no secret that I’m looking for side work. I’m specifically looking for writing jobs, but thanks a million for the several suggestions I’ve received that strip clubs are always hiring. As nice as that suggestion is, I really don’t think third grade teachers should side hustle at The Boobie Bungalow. Also, I don’t need to have the guilt of giving some poor old, lonely dude a heart attack right as he’s struck completely blind. I just can’t have that on my conscience right now.

So, I’ve been creeping Indeed like that weirdo who’s the first to like all of your Insta posts (who are you even?).

I’ve applied to so.many.freelance.writing.jobs.it.isn’t.even.funny.

The only two I’ve heard back from are total busts.

The first wanted a peppy, inspired video of why I would be a good fit for their company. Um. There is a very good reason I chose blogging (I.E. WRITING) over vlogging: I have crazy eyes and a face only blogging would love.

So, I had to pass on that one. You’re welcome, whoever would’ve had to watch that video.

The second company to contact me was an educational company looking for writers.

Sounds like the perfect fit, right?!

Let me just list the BS I went through over the last few days with this company (everything I say here, I’d not hesitate to share with them, FYI):

1. For the first informational webinar I signed up for, the host never joined. Legit, just didn’t show. NOT exactly the best first impression.

2. During the second (successful) attempt to participate in the mandatory webinar, the owner told us we could start that day and to email her if we were interested. Alright!

3. After emailing her and not hearing anything back, I sent an email the next day to the person who scheduled the webinar to check to make sure the email I wrote down was correct. She responded with, “Susie Ann (not her real name) is very busy. I’m sure you’ll hear from her.” Maybe don’t tell us we can start that very day then?

4. After finally hearing back from the owner of the company, they got me “started” in their system they use to write in, but gave ZERO explanation for how to work within the system. I’m not a stupid person, but I do need basic directions to brand new things.

5. It took WAY too long to hear from this person on how to proceed. In fact, I spent the better part of a snow day off of work trying to figure out where to write and post, because it all made no sense. This was not how I wanted to spend my day off from being at work. I was mad, ya’ll.

6. After asking for some assistance for how to navigate, I was told to ask the super helpful woman from before. Um. No thanks. I’ll just bow out here.

So, I’ve decided to walk away from this “opportunity”. My boyfriend and one of my friends said that if they are this horrible at responding to simple questions, what’s going to happen when my pay for my writing doesn’t show up?

So, basically, I’m just really annoyed I wasted an entire day and several hours to this when I could have been doing something more productive, like looking for less stressful freelance work or binge watching The Office.

Are You Fucking Kidding Me?

Whenever it snows or rains, literally all the idiots come out in droves. It’s like they think, “Weather makes me straight up lose my mind. It’s a blizzard outside, so now is a good time to be on the road.”

When you combine idiocy with entitlement, you have an even more potentially lethal combination.

This makes me so mad, I can feel the vein in my forehead pulse as I type.

On a daily basis, I see fools driving like they are the only people who matter. I see people driving reckless as fuck and for what? So they can be first in the drive thru line at MacDonald’s? (Yes, I meant to spell it like that. You’re supposed to read it in a country accent.)

Unless you need to poop or you or someone in your car is going into labor, SLOW THE EFF DOWN and be courteous to others.

Also, can we all quit being such self-involved assholes?

On Sunday, I witnessed a woman purposely hit the plastic SLOW sign in the middle of a crosswalk. Like, she veered to hit it. How in the fuck evil does a grown woman have to be to purposely hit a sign that reminds people to slow down for people, namely children, to cross the street? Who hurt you?

Then, that very same day, my dude went to put air in his tires. There was a line, and the person trying and failing to add air to their tires was an elderly woman. It was snowing, freezing cold, and a line of people sat waiting impatiently instead of helping.

GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.

Like, pack your shit and kindly fall off the face of the earth.

In case you were wondering, my non-douchebag boyfriend helped the woman put air in her tires, because we aren’t terrible people.

Where’s My Xanax?

So, about that “job” I decided against? It was the last semi-promising side hustle I’ve found. I’m employing my travel money saving tips for my upcoming trips, but I’m probably going to need a teensy bit more than what I can save from my paychecks. This is partly due to my way smaller than what I was expecting tax return. Anyone else really unhappy about this? I was going to rant about my tax return and forgot because I had so many pressing rants #rantlife.)

I need some way to make some side money that doesn’t involve compromising situations, and it’d be nice if it wasn’t a time-wasting scam.

I don’t think there is such a thing as a legit writing side job.

Anyone who has found one is welcome to speak up and share their secrets, because it’s getting harder to sleep with my twitching eye.

So, what is really burning your biscuits right now? Tell Aunt Fatty!

How to Make Money Blogging: I’m Stinking Blog Rich, and I’m Ready to Help You Get Rich Too

I have only been blogging for two weeks, 4 days, 10 hours, and three minutes and I am already a millionaire blogging expert*. It was that easy. Well, it wasn’t easy- it did take some work**. But, anyone*** can do it. Want to know how? Well, it is your lucky day, because I am ready to reveal my million-dollar secret for…FREE****

Normally, a course such as this would cost you hundreds, but today only, I am offering you a guaranteed spot in my course for free*****. All you need to do is be available to participate in the live course at the time it is offered. That is it. Simple! Don’t wait! Sign up now!******

The word on the street is that blogs are no longer relevant. That is simply not true. There are plenty of people who are not bloggers who still read blogs. I am sure there are. You can still make your mark in this platform, however saturated it is. I say, “The more the merrier!”*******

I have also heard that you have to have a niche or be a good writer to be a successful blogger. This is also not true. You can have next to no writing skills and a blog that is more bipolar than Demi Lovato and still get incredible traffic. I would normally save this for the blogging course, but I want to give you a little taste of what you will get when you sign up. So, listen to this!

All you have to do to get blog traffic that is busier than the 405 in L.A. is sell your soul to the devil himself. This includes and is not limited to writing soulless drivel that has zero talent whatsoever, but that sells a brand, and losing all sense of who you were as a writer before you decided blogging was the way forward.

In a nutshell, blogging does not mean writing, so you could write…

Blah blah blah how to blah blah blah tips blah blah blah best blah blah blah why blah blah blah great blah blah blah.

…and you could get 1,000 people to visit your blog within five minutes of hitting publish. Try it before you knock it.

Don’t worry about being bad at grammar and spelling. Today, even the world’s leading news agencies have no standard online, so why should it be expected of you? Who needs to know the difference between ‘your’ and ‘you’re’ with spellcheck and autocorrect…********

So, I’d be surprised if I didn’t convince you. This course will teach you the no fail********* methods for getting rich while blogging in your stained sweats. It’s a no brainer! See you in the course!

*My six-figure salary includes my inheritance. I am disclosing this information for legal purposes only. I will always be completely transparent with you, otherwise.

**By ‘work’, I am referring to sending a text to the contacts I have at Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, BuzzFeed, and a few top retail brands. But, you can totally do this without connections. Totally.

***Legally, I need to state that not anyone can “make” it as an independently wealthy blogger. It is estimated that there are currently 152 million blogs in existence. There are not 152 million millionaire bloggers, but don’t let that kind of negativity stop you!

****This special price of free does not offer a guarantee. There are no promises the course will load on your computer or will be compatible with your operating device. There are no returns or refunds, because it is free.

*****I am legally obligated to state that while I am not taking money from you in the form of payment, I will be making money off of your participation in this course in the form of traffic to my site, which feeds my advertisement payout.

******The time frame the live course will run is non-negotiable. 2:30 PM EST on a Tuesday is a perfectly reasonable time and day. What? Do you all have jobs?

*******It should be noted that the majority of the blogs making the big bucks were started in 2005. Though they made their mark 14 years ago, this doesn’t mean you can’t stand out among the hundreds of millions of blogs today. You just have to shine extra bright is all.

********Oh wait.

*********Full legal disclosure: 99.8% failure rate.

Free Advice Friday From Your Aunt Fatty

Dear Auntie, 

The new president of the board where I teach is a passive aggressive power hungry bitch. She keeps praising me to my face and then going behind my back and saying nasty things to my co workers. And then she denies it. How can I deal with her and keep my sanity? And if that isn’t possible, how can I kill her and not get caught?

-Anonymous Idiot (who should have said no)

Dear Anonymous Idiot,

I once briefly worked at a place that shall remain nameless that had a board that was almost entirely run by moms of students attending. I think that was a major conflict of interest, but what do I know?

(I had way more to say here, but figured it’d be better for me to watch my big mouth.)

One of these moms hated me simply because she assumed I was too young to be responsible for her child’s education. She actually said to a teacher who worked there, “I don’t want that 18 year-old know-nothing around my son.”

No way! You think I’m 18?!”

I was 28.

So, all that to say, I know what you’re going through.

As far as I’m aware, school board members are elected to their positions. Next time she comes up to be re-elected, you know what you need to do. Until then, just be your amazing self and pay no mind to people like that. If you know you’re doing your job well and her comments are unfounded, it’s her problem not yours.

Also, it wouldn’t hurt to document the ever-loving shit out of every interaction and record every snippet of gossip you hear her quacking. You may need it, because if karma truly exists, ample evidence from the sane party will work in your favor big time.

Besides, if she’s doing this to you, she’s probably talking behind other backs as well. She might piss off the wrong person and your documentation could be the cherry on top of getting her removed from the board.

Best of luck and don’t do murder.

Love, Your Aunt Fatty (who is really, really mad about this bullshit for you)

Dear Aunt Fatty,

Can you help me find my calling? I see people around me who know what they want to do or are happy with what they are doing. From the moment I started searching for a job and a career, everyone asks me what I want to be…. and I don’t know. I don’t know who or what I can be. I’m average on everything including translating for the looks of things (didn’t get the translating job I applied for) and all I can see myself doing is retail, but I know that I can’t keep my big mouth shut anymore. If a customer pisses me off I will slap him with the keyboard or my hand. Depends what’s easiest at the time. How should I go about finding what I’m meant to do in life?

Sincerely, A Very Knowledgeable and Talented Queen Who Can Do Anything and Everything She Sets Her Mind To (I wrote this, because I only speak the truth)

Dear A Very Knowledgeable and Talented Queen Who Can Do Anything and Everything She Sets Her Mind To,

First, I think it’s really awesome (and also kinda like playing with fire) that you trust me enough with this serious issue.

Next, I’d like all of my readers to know that I know you personally, so when I say you can literally do anything, I damn well mean it and I’m qualified to say it.

You are too legit to quit and genuinely one of the kindest and most thoughtful people I know.

You impressed the hell out of my family when you took us on a personal tour of the Lincoln Cathedral. You knew so much and presented it to us in such an engaging way, I was in awe.

You know a handful of languages, dude. That’s like four fingers less than most people.

What I truly see you doing is working at a museum or important historical site. I see you being a director. I see you being responsible for all the important shit that goes on at these places (whatever that shit is, because I don’t know). I see you speaking your myriad languages to the other important director people of other important museums and/or historical sites. I see you wearing super smart lady suits that look killer on you (You’ll spice them up with a peekaboo lace camisole underneath and sky high heels. Or sensible flats, because let’s be real- heels blow).

You will be K-I-L-L-I-N-G I-T, girl.

If this is not what you want to be and you end up working the till at Tesco, I’ll be equally proud of you, because that’s just one step closer to being able to travel the world with your Soul Sister (me).

I know you’re feeling down right now, but don’t you dare ever say you’re average. Don’t you ever say that again.

Love, Your Aunt Fatty (who is #crossingherfingersandtoesbecausesicilyandobviouslyforyoutooimnotcompletelyselfish)

Dear Auntie:

Now that the cold weather has arrived, us girls need a little extra warmth on our bodies. Like most, I love the colder months because I don’t have to use a weed wacker on my legs to get them touchable smooth. How often should a lady shave those stems in the winter?

Much love,

Going to run in an Abominable Snowwoman contest

By Abominable Snow Woman, did you mean this?

Dear Going to Run in an Abominable Snow Woman Contest,

I’m so glad you brought up this very important issue. This is so something that needs to be covered every year when the temps drop and the chill hits.

Despite what every man on Earth may say, it is not at all necessary to shave for the entirety of Sweater Weather season. Like, there’s not one single reason to get your razor wet once.

If your body is covered head to toe in warm stuffs why shave? Even if you were rocking a tank and booty shorts, what’s a little butt hair poking out? We all have it. Right, ya’ll have an abundance of butt hair, too. Right??

Coming from someone who likes to look decent, I sure as fuck hate the process. I positively hate shaving because it takes so long my fingers are pruney and the water has run cold. I only shave for my massage therapist and only the places she will have to touch (and I’m only doing this as a courtesy, as I imagine rubbing down legs with a million porcupine spines has to be unpleasant).

I can just hear my dude groaning subconsciously. Sorry, boyfriend. You have hairy armpits, too.

So, rock on with your hairy bad self. Your built-in insulation will save on heating costs too, so I see this as a total win-win situation.

Love, Your Aunt Fatty (who is also participating in No Shave Octembanuaryarch)

Thank you so much to Giggling Fattie, who submitted her question above and also kindly posted on her blog about my Ask Aunt Fatty series! Check out her fantastic blog that I know you’re gonna love here.

A few of you sent in submissions (thank you, thank you, thank you) that I didn’t get to this week. Stay tuned for next week’s post to read your answer from Aunt Fatty.

Keep sending in your problems, people. I know you got ’em!

You can contact me here! Or, if you follow me on Twitter, Instagram or Facebook, you can message me there, as well!

The Dieting Chronicles of Dumpy Von Marshmallow Waist and Duchess McMilkshakes: Weeks 3 & 4

A week or so late and a lot of dollars short, here we are with our Thanksgiving update. We might also be late posting, because the diet struggle bus got caught in traffic in Eat Everything Even When You’re Full and Fat Food Town.

Shit doesn’t work…

How was Thanksgiving? Did you eat your weight in pie?

A: Thanksgiving was SO good!! I didn’t eat my weight in pie but I drank it in wine and other various cocktails (evidently, I forgot I was 36, and had to be up real early the next day). There only ended up being 8 of us, but we ate and drank and laughed until no noise came out. I had everything I wanted and didn’t feel guilty for a single second. It was legitimately the best day I’ve had in months!

When you get to laugh like this with your family, you’re winning at life (plus, it’s a great ab workout).

K: Damn near. I started out the day trying to be really disciplined, though, so I made diet pumpkin cinnamon rolls that are supposed to be only 3 Weight Watchers points per roll for breakfast.

Spoiler Alert: My boyfriend has requested that if I promise cinnamon rolls again they not be made with Greek yogurt and pumpkin purée.

He was not a fan, and if I’m being honest, they were not worth driving to my parents’ house to borrow a rolling pin because I don’t own one and then having to knead weird Greek yogurt-y dough.

After the disappointment of not-sweet-at-all cinnamon rolls, it was game time when dinner rolled around. I basically stuffed myself silly. I barely even came up to breathe mid-bite. I guess what I’m thankful for this year is not asphyxiating at the Thanksgiving dinner table.

I inhaled this plate in record time. It would have been embarrassing had I not been so amazed/impressed with myself.

How is the diet going, by the way?

A: Soooooo I kinda hate it. Not the diet itself; Weight watchers is fine, and probably the least sadistic diet in the industry at the moment. What I hate is the fact that I can’t behave like a normal person around food, so I have to call on other people (who also can’t act right) to tell me what to do. It’s bullshit. You want to know what else is bullshit?! If I want to shop at normal stores, and not have Omar The Tent Maker design my wedding dress, I’m going to have to follow some sort of program for the rest of my life. I could sit and eat an entire container of Oreos just thinking about it.

K: I think I’m doing half alright, actually*

*This was more than a week ago.

RED ALERT. NOT DOING ALRIGHT.

I’m struggling HARD. The abso-fucking-lute worse time to start a diet is during the holidays? What was I thinking? This was my dinner and drink of choice this past Friday night:

Fried and more fried. Not a wise choice.
I almost count this as medicinal after the week I had, so…

And then it just kind of spiraled out of control the rest of the weekend, because once fries tough my lips it’s OVER.

Le sigh.

Was it hard to get back on the stinking, sucky ass diet horse after the biggest eating holiday of the year?

A: It took me an extra day to get back to it because Friday I felt like a bag of smashed assholes, and I needed grease and sleep; rinse, lather and repeat. Then, I made the mistake of weighing myself, and magically found it much easier to get back to it. On any given day I can fluctuate 2-4 pounds just in water and how full I am anyway, so let’s just say the number wasn’t great. For the record, I would do it all again (hangover and all) because it was good for my soul to be with the people I love, and disconnect from the day-to-day nonsense for a few glorious hours.

K: See above.

What are you hating right now about this diet thing?

A: In theory it’s a great plan. They make healthier foods zero points in hopes you’ll choose things like eggs and veggies over a 12 point donut for breakfast thus staying fuller for longer, and giving your overworked, over-caffeinated body some of the things it actually needs. The problem is, I find myself skipping healthier options in order to make room for the naughtier ones. A glazed donut is 12 points. My favorite yogurt with almonds and a scoop of protein is 8 points. The donut always wins.

K: Three things:

1. I hate leftover chicken with my entire being. The second you reheat it, it takes on a whole new flavor that activates my gag reflex. In order to force it down, I drown it in BBQ sauce. It used to be “free” to dip your chicken in the sweet sauce, now it’s not. Because chicken is a “free” food, I’m eating chicken all the time. I’m just gagging as I eat every meal. It’s great.

Literally me, cooking chicken, knowing it’s gonna taste like garbage when I eat it for lunch the next day.

(I’m still dipping my chicken in BBQ sauce and not counting it and Weight Watchers can suck it.)

2. How much spaghetti squash can one person eat? Because, I think I’m at the lifetime limit already. IJUSTWANTSOMEFUCKINGPASTAALRIGHT.

3. Cauliflower rice is not rice. Like, not even remotely close to being rice. Frankly, I’m appalled.

Anything you’re loving?

A: Love is a pretty strong word to describe a diet. I love that I might not die of diabetes if I lose 40 more pounds. I appreciate that my pants fit better. Which brings me to another point: How did I ever wear said pants before this, when they are still so tight now? I think they were holding on for dear life and no one had the heart to tell me my cellulite was showing. But yeah, there’s no love here. Just broccoli and my attitude.

K: I love the idea that I am heading in a healthier direction. I love that my pants are a teeny, tiny bit looser. I love that I look a little more you-know-I-don’t-think-she’s-pregnant-I-think-she-just-ate-a-burrito-for-lunch. Also, I LOVE eating poached eggs for breakfast instead of a bagel smothered in cream cheese.

(The last one is a lie.)

Walking past the bad stuffs we really want bad, trying not to scream

How are ya’ll doing? Anyone trying to diet now? How’s it treatin’ ya? Let us know in the comments!

Oops, My Bad

I’m posting today to apologize for not posting my usual on Wednesday and today. The Christmas crazies have kicked in and I’m finding myself overwhelmed trying to fit in all the fun. Maybe one year I’ll slow the shit down and actually enjoy the holidays.

I’m fully expecting that you will see an update on how Dumpy and McMilkshakes are doing. Spoiler alert: We’re struggling and dieting during the holidays can suck our sagging back fat.

Check out the first posts in the Diet Chronicles of Dumpy Von Marshmallow Waist and Duchess McMilkshakes:

The First Post

Week Two

The Thanksgiving Edition

I’m positively loving writing ridiculous advice from Aunt Fatty, but I only have one submission waiting for my anti-advice, so I decided to wait and see if more of you felt the need for crappy life lessons from a wholly unqualified individual (to the person waiting: I hope it wasn’t, like, a time sensitive issue. If so, my bad).

So, in order for Free Advice Friday From Your Aunt Fatty to work, I kinda need people seeking advice. I considered just writing fake submissions, but I want to bring real life fuckery to you, not made up bullshit.

So, get to writing in. You can submit your queries here.

Check out the posts I’ve already done thanks to your submissions:

The First Round of Ridiculousness

More Non-Advice

The Last Post?

In going back through these previous posts I’ve done, I’m noticing that each new post got less likes than the last. Maybe you’re all busy with Christmas crap like I am or I was mistaken and ya’ll actually really hate this series?

Well, on that depressing note, I’ll take my leave. Hope to *see* y’all next week.

Anti-Advice From Aunt Fatty

I was so incredibly blown away by the amount of suggestions I got from my last post (I really thought I’d get next to no responses). One of the suggestions I received touched on an idea that has been swirling in my brain for some time. It being suggested was the impetus to get this ball rolling.

Thank you to See It With Your Own Eyes for suggesting I take questions for an advice column post/series.

The absolute most absurd aspect of this and why I think it *could* be pretty amazing is that it’ll be advice from an utter inept failure of an adult.

It’ll be like anti-advice.

It’ll be the kind of unsolicited advice you might get from your drunk uncle. Most of it’ll be complete nonsensical garbage, but there might be a gem of worldly wisdom hidden amongst the empty pizza boxes and beer cans.

The only way this’ll work, though, is if I get questions from you, my lovely readers.

I think the best way to do this will be to have ya’ll send me a private message via my Contact Page with your question or topic you’re seeking advice on.

You can choose to reveal yourself or be completely anonymous.

If you send me an alarming, tragic, or deeply personal question, it won’t be featured because this is all about being ridiculous and lighthearted (I will talk you through it and be there for you, because even though I may not be a very adulty adult, I’ll never leave anyone in need hanging).

If you submit a question, you agree to my response potentially being stupid/weird and/or not actually helping you with your problem. As such, you understand that I am, by no means, an expert on almost all matters.

I really hope ya’ll are some huge hot messes, in need of some good ol’ anti-advice, because I think this could be something pretty magical.

I’d like to post my first “advice column” on Friday as Aunt Fatty’s Free Advice Friday, so send me those burning questions!

(Also, share the shit out of this. Pretty please.)

I hope to hear from you soon.

Special Request Sunday

Hey, y’all! It’s come to my attention that bloggers ask their readers for suggestions on content they’d like to read and their readers actually give them some great ideas and feedback.

I never thought to do this.

I mean, this could epically fail and no one will want to suggest anything. Maybe someone might even say, “That ain’t my job to tell you, the writer what to write *insert eye roll*.” Or, this could get awesomely weird and entertaining.

Sundays are my chores-and-dread-Monday days, so save me from that sad existence with some special requests or content you’d like to see more of here at Fatty McCupcakes.

I’d insert a poll, but I don’t know how and I’m too lazy to figure it out. Honesty is the best policy…

Some themed days and other content I’ve done past and present are:

WTF Wednesday

Travel Tuesday (or Thursday depending on how much I don’t have my shit together)

Storytelling of various epic family adventures and fails

Rants and Ramblings

Stories about the many different ways I’m inept at life

Other Bullshit

So, if you are also procrastinating cleaning your toilet today, let me know in the comment section what you’d like to read more of here. If you want to suggest something privately, send me a direct message via my contact page.

Can’t wait to hear from ya’ll!

Picture of caramel apple for attention

Those Elko Feels

Elko 2
Fall means I think of Elko. A smell, the orange color of the leaves, a vivid memory, or just a fleeting thought ignites a chain reaction of intense longing. It happens every so often and when it does, it nearly cripples me for a brief, cathartic moment.
Elko is a place I had a love-hate relationship with for many years. Now, I just long for it in my bones.

It can’t be explained by one key event or moment. It was a series of moments, feelings, awakenings. It was carried by the electrically charged breeze during a thunderstorm. It was kicked up and then settled, into the cracks and crannies of my brain, like the dirt from the road. It came to me, pungent, in through the window, smelling of wet sagebrush and desert. It was changing oak leaves in the fall. The smell of coffee and wet pavement. It was the green hills in the spring. The thick, silent snowflakes in the winter. It was stillness. Jackrabbits. The moon and the stars. It was fresh, plump grapes. Fried chicken and biscuits. It was peace. Sleep. Renewal. It was far away, twinkling lights, signaling home. It was something, somewhere, everything, always. It was Elko.

WTF Wednesday: Blogging Truth Bombs and Beefs

It’s about to get beef bomby up in here, so prepare yourselves. Depending on how you interpret that, you could be feeling very different things right now.

Blogging, ya’ll. What is it even?

I’ve mentioned a time or 10 how I’m a writer who just so happens to use the blogging platform to get my writing “out there”. As such, I’m by no means an expert on the topic. However, I’ve been doing the grunt work long enough to have noticed a few things.

Ready? Let’s go!

1. The “Market” is Saturated

Ya’ll, we’re all just one of millions. Literally millions. There are millions of blogs on the interwebs. If you are doing this blogging thing to be noticed; if you’re blogging to earn money; if you’re writing on the blogging platform to get your writing read and/or to be found, GOOD LUCK.

I’m not saying that sarcastically either. I really mean it. You’re going to need some serious luck of the Irish or some other historically magical luck to distinguish yourself in a major way.

I’ve had many discussions with fellow bloggers on this topic, and the general consensus is that bloggers who have ended up rich and famous started blogging and writing smack dab in the middle of the sweet spot of the Blogging Leads to Fame and Fortune era.

There are plenty (actually a fuck ton) of bloggers who make income from their blog via affiliate links, advertising, and utilizing SEO like bosses, but I’m not referring to them here. I’m talking about bloggers who have used their blogging platform to become extremely well known, published authors a la Jenny Lawson (The Bloggess) or Allie Brosh.

So, if blogging is just a step in the direction of your ultimate goal of being a published writer, just get to writing on your book, baby.

I used to actually, and don’t laugh when you read this, think I’d be “discovered” because of my blog. I know, embarrassing, right? The reality is, though, among millions of other bloggers vying for readership, I’m just another asshole who thinks my blog is going to become famous. Learn from me, just write the damn book.

2. They’ll Help You, But For a Price

If you are currently blogging about blogging or offering e-courses on SEO, rock on with your bad self. Anyone smart enough to monetize where the gettin is good is money goals in my mind.

That doesn’t make the bad feeling I have about this business go away, though.

Whenever I wish to educate myself on monetizing options for my blog, I usually click on a blog post about SEO or affiliate links and I’m lead down a veritable rabbit hole of advertisements, newsletter pop ups, and the promise I’ll turn my lame blog around just so long as I sign up for an e-course or I pay an un-godly amount of money to receive consultation on my brand. This inevitably reminds me of all the times I was dumb enough to invest in and try to sell Mary Kay or Scentsy or dōTERRA.

They get you with the promise of a “nominal” fee and the insistence that you’ll be CEO of the business in “no time”.

It’s the same thing with blogging courses and blog consultations. Maybe you will learn something and be successful like them or maybe you won’t, because remember- there are millions of others doing the same exact thing as you.

I’m not saying these courses are all crap or the people offering them are part of some pyramid scheme, but what I am saying is nothing in the blogging world is free or guaranteed. Be savvy about how and where you invest your money, especially if you started your blog as a hobby and you are literally making zero money doing it.

3. The Dumbing Down

I don’t care if this isn’t a fact- or researched-based opinion, because what I see with my pretty perceptive eyes is that a huge amount of people on this planet are dumb as fuck.

The kinds of things that go viral all over social media are quick and easy to read memes, gifs, funny videos, and graphics. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good meme or gif. In fact, I can entertain myself for an embarrassingly long amount of time just scrolling through funny bullshit on Facebook, Instagram or Pinterest. But, I fear that this is the limit to many people’s attention spans or interests- a pretty picture or easy to read snippets of information.

When you’re a writer, you put blood, sweat, and tears into content for people on the internet to (hopefully) read, but many just click onto your post to watch the funny gif and then they leave.

I have heard/read the words, “People just aren’t reading blogs as much anymore” far too often in the last year.

I think it’s true. And, I think people are choosing to read an eight word meme over your 800 word post because it’s quicker and easier.

4. The Balance

Probably one of the hardest aspects of being a blogger is finding the time to keep up with the blogs I follow. Not only do I want to read them, it’s also nice to comment, like and, perhaps, even share on various social media outlets. I mean, I want other people to do the same for me, so I can’t not return the love.

This is where things become a precarious balancing act.

When I have to decide between 20+ blog posts to read during my rushed 20 minute lunch, I either read only one or two or I skim read them all.

I don’t have an endless amount of time to read blogs, as much as I’d love to be able to do that all the time (how glorious of a career would Professional Blog Reader be?). Yet, I hope others will have the time to read my blog.

It’s such a crazy, fucked up thing, and I’m sure I’m not alone in this balancing act. It’s like we’re all saying, “I don’t have time to read your blog, but read mine, mmmkay?”

But, if we all do that, though, no one will read any blogs. And then, the blogosphere will implode, and all of our hard work will die a terrible death.

I’m still working on how to read all of my favorite blogs and sleep…

5. The Like vs. Traffic Debate

How much traffic your blog receives is only revealed to you, unless you wish to share it. However, how many likes your post gets and the amount of quality comments at the end of your post is viewable and it means something.

I mean, it should mean something.

To me, likes and comments are like passport stamps from the visitors of your blog. They are trophies. They are getting the gold.

The more likes and comments I get, the prouder I feel about my post and how it was received by my readers.

Likes and comments are also a visual to new visitors that make me look more credible as an established blogger. As much as you don’t want to accept this fact, we all know you’re secretly ashamed of that post you did last year that only garnered two likes and zero comments. At least, that’s how I feel about that asshole post…

That said, this is how I measure the success of my posts. Not everyone is the same. Many people consider traffic to their blog to be more important and that’s just fine, especially if they’re monetizing. In that case, traffic is the gold.

The great thing about blogging is that it can literally be and mean anything to you. Find value where you wish.

If you’re new to blogging or you are just not seeing the amount of likes or comments on your posts that you’d like, assess how welcoming you are to visitors. Does it take you a week to respond to a comment? Do you not respond in a way that keeps the discussion going? Are your responses pretty canned? If you answered ‘yes’ to any of these questions, you need to up your commenting game.

Also, asking a question that is related to your post topic, like, “What do you think the little hole in the crotch of Spanx is for?” (that’ll really get ’em talking) can help facilitate discussion in the comment section.

I could go on. There’s so much more I can say about my blogging beefs and truths, but I think this is more than enough for now.

Blogging isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, so spill it. What grates on your nerves. What annoys you the most? Let it out, babes.