A story of an erotic burlesque show gone wrong I was in Vegas a few weeks ago and took the time to check out Zumanity, a burlesque show put on by the beautiful bodied acrobats of cirque de soleil.  I loved it. It was erotic, featured rock hard bodies and bouncy tits, lambasted and praised the hereto and homo proclivities, and starred a wonderful funny drag queen as the host. It even had comedy breaks lest we heathens start actually doing what the stage simulated (and stimulated ;)).  It was delightful. Except for one fucking thing. The two fat "assistants" the show employed to move props and audience members around. The show never out right featured them in their disgusting corsets and crude fat facade of the sensual, but they were always within eyesight. It was as if the show was reacting to the fat is sexy movement but knew it wasn't.  In that case, CDS, let me let you in on a secret: some find fucking cars sexy as well yet I saw no mustangs on your stage. It killed the whole vibe for me and caused an argument with my SO as he tried to mealy mouth an apologist's vomitus with the undeniable truth that fat can only ever, at best, be a fetish and not an attraction, much less a feature in a literal celebration of bodies. He kept saying, "IIIII don't find it attractive, but someone might." No.  And this was on top of all the other fat fucking beasts waddling around complaining about having to walk.  Ick. Las Vegas will never be sin city for me.