Dinner work Christmas party with fat fucks. Incoming rant/longish. So nothing really outrageous just your typical hammy behavior. I'm just needing to blow off some steam. I fucking hate this time of the year so instead of stabbing someone at this particular dinner I thought it might be wiser just to vent here.  So, my husband and I went to his work Christmas party recently. It was at a steakhouse and seeing as how the majority of his co-workers are hams the odds were not in my favor and well... as you can imagine I ended up getting squished next to one. It's a small company and two of them are actual death fats with the largest in the 500 pound range. In fact this mayo is so large that the uniform company who stocks their uniforms no longer has anything in any size that it can fit. If I'm not mistaken they carry up to a 6X. This particular death fat has cost my husband I don't even want to think about how much money and even more importantly, so much time.  In short, I hate this fat cow-worker fucker and I could rant about it all day long and list off the numerous things he has done to deserve my wrath but I don't even feel like going there today.  Of course at dinner what does he do? He and the office worker femayo order two huge appetizers "for the table" of course for "everyone to share". Between fat fucker and the fat office worker femayo they manage to destroy about 95% of the appetizers. And of freaking course they order some deep fried oily shit that smells like ass and pass it back and forth between them.  [As a side note please understand that I am not trying to food hate here. from time to time I like to indulge in a little fried food but I am very specific about it not being drenched in damn grease and I eat very, very little of it and very, very rarely. Fried food has the capacity to make me very sick for the better half of a week but I am not knocking all fried food and having it on the rare occasion. I am knocking this pile of shit fried food because it looked like they had thrown two batches of shit on two serving plates and then poured a cup of dirty deep fryer vat oil over each one. OK, end of that disclaimer.] Did I mention that I am sitting beside one of them and across from the other? So as they are pushing and pulling these plates of deep fried shit back and forth across the table the smell keeps hitting me and I start feeling nauseous. I have some mild chronic stomach problems and this isn't helping them at all. Plus office worker fat femayo is grabbing that plate so fast that her aim is shit and I keep getting hit in the arm by her sausage limbs and inverted elbows. We're jammed in there side by side tight since her ass is so wide it takes up enough space for two people. By the time the appetizers arrive my husband and I haven't eaten all day and are pretty hungry. Well, I was pretty hungry until I got hit with the stench but my husband is sitting on my other side and I guess he isn't smelling it. He asks me to just put two or three bites of an appetizer on his plate. This apparently is a cue to the 300 something pound diabeetus plagued cow-worker that it's OK to have some. After I make a face and say something about getting grease all over my hands (and I used a fork the grease just went everywhere) 300 pounder's porker wife asks me if I would slop some on a plate for them. They are staring hard at those appetizers. And... fuck I am covered in that grease shit again. Meanwhile my SO looks like he is about to be sick. He has taken a bite and looks nauseated. I ask him what's wrong and he just says, "I'm hungry, thought I would have a bite or two but that's gross". So as loudly as I can I say "Oh, well, it probably just tastes like straight grease. It looks like a pile of grease. Are you feeling sick now?" He nods yes and I can tell he is trying to keep his mouth shut tight. He looks like he is about to be sick. "Well, you aren't used to eating fried foods. You should know better than to try to eat that junk.". Silence around the table, a few heads looking down. I smile really big and say very innocently, "Oh, we just don't eat fried foods so we aren't used to all of the grease. Are you OK honey? You really do look sick. What was that, one bite?" He nods yes and grabs his water. During all of this the 500 pounder is sitting there with half of his ass and one of his ginormous thighs hanging off the side of the seat. Apparently he considers himself some sort of great cook and starts chatting me up about his fabulous (hork) culinary skills. Recipe for whatever it was... oh he just pan fries it in a whole stick of butter (of course you do fatass) to which I reply "Ugh... see I couldn't handle all of that butter and soooo many calories, oh goodness!".  The worst part of that entire conversation is that I think it thought it was being charming or flirty. I don't consider myself beautiful. I think that I am "average" looking in the true sense of the word average but I kept getting told by everyone there how amazing I look and how "skinny" I am. I am not skinny. I have a teenaged niece who is truly what I would call skinny. I am not that body type. I am actually curvy in the original sense of the word. I am just not fat so therefore I must be "so skinny" and so "tiny". Whatever. The 500 pounder may be the grossest one and the one I hate the most but the high 300 pounder is starting to give him a run for his money. I know for a fact that this mayo was diagnosed with diabeetus a few years ago. He's also had several surgeries for fatass related diseases. He made a big deal about it being his wakeup call, lost around 20 or 30 pounds and then just kind of forgot about it.  Since the moment my husband had decided to have a few bites of the appetizers the 300 plus pounder had dropped all pretenses at trying to eat well. Not that he was fooling anyone in the first place. Anyway, I'm sure the gallon of straight up syrup water he drank at dinner has nothing to do with the fact that he has diabetes. I mean, drinking soda, while having diabetes is perfectly healthy right? No way that's going to raise his blood sugar levels up through the roof.  Oh and of course he's injured again and planning on being out of work for the next several months and was stoned all through dinner because of all the pain he is in and all of the medicine his doctor gave him. Never mind the fact that were he human sized even if he had sustained the injuries he did (which weren't his fault - I just can't go into detail here) they wouldn't have been nearly as severe. Never mind the fact that if he were human sized this would be his first time having to miss months of work and not his third or fourth (I lose count/track).  Thanks for letting me vent/rant.