Subtlety: The Art of Effective Fat Shaming - OR - The Story of Heather the Feather Just had to get this off my chest, not required summer reading: Since I began browsing FPH several months ago, I have made an effort to encourage my friends and family to live a healthier lifestyle with some subtle shitlording. At home, I have done things like insist we turn the TV channel to My 600 lb Life, comment on the % of their monthly health insurance bill that goes to fatties with chronic illnesses, casually mention triple bypass surgery when served unhealthy food, etc. I am happy to report that my moderate fat shaming has produced some significant results for my parents! In a few short months, my mother has almost completely shed the inner tube around her waste. My father no longer fits into any of his old suits. My step mom has dropped a few lbs as well. Although I don't want to take credit for the positive changes that they have made, and correlation does not imply causation, I was feeling quite proud of myself for contributing valuable moral support while they improved their lifestyles. That was, until I got a call from my good friend from college, Heather. Heather was moving to the area and wanted me to help her get moved in an assimilated, which of course I obliged, Heather is still one of my best friends. Now, Heather has always been a big girl, with a voracious appetite, but when the half mile wide, iron-composite asteroid that wiped out the dinosaurs crash landed outside my house and rang the doorbell, I was a little shocked to say the least. Heather had gained weight. 120 lbs at least. On a 5'5" frame. Because her room would not be ready for another week, I offered to have her over for a few nights, and she said she would get a motel room for the remainder. As I helped her move boxes into the house I noticed that she had packed a lot of food, 3 full grocery bags and a cooler to be exact. When she wasn't looking I examined their contents: 2 boxes of chocolate frosted mini-wheats (1 half empty), 12 cans of tuna, 2 bottles of mayo, 3 bottles salad dressing (thousand island and buttermilk ranch), 5 cans of baked beans, 13 packages of spaghetti, sauce, oreo cookies, chips, crackers, m&ms, chocolates, muffins, quinoa, canned chicken breast, canned ravioli, diet coke, etc... After moving most of her things into the house (I did 90% of the work), and 7 hours of sitting on her ass in a car, Heather was exhausted and retired herself to my relatively new queen sized memory foam mattress. Because of the 200 lb of lard vest strapped to her upper body, Heather is no longer able to sleep on her back without suffocating to death. The lard vest also makes it difficult for her to breathe properly, so she now snores perpetually through the night. Not a problem, I keep a package of ear plugs handy and managed to get a good nights sleep. In the morning, while Heather was taking a shower (aka monsoon season on planet Heather), I discovered a large crater on one side of my mattress where Heathers ass had been. Her massive body had scared my memory foam mattress for life! My memory bed was so traumatized, it could never forget. Of course I was fuming, but I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. After all, maybe a flip or a little therapy would help my memory foam mattress overcome the trauma, I thought.  Heather lost her birth control in the move (apparently some guys like to stick their dick into a cascading mountain range of mayonnaise), and of course Heather is allergic to latex. When she returned from the doctor's office after requesting a replacement, I was very pleased to hear that the doctor was not a HAES specialist, as she had told Heather there was a 100% chance she was going to get diabetes if she didn't lose 100 lbs immediately. Obviously Heather was very perturbed, but I saw this as an excellent opportunity for a fresh start (and a whole lot of shitlording that I had been holding back). Oh and she finally got weighed: 327 lbs. On a 5'5" frame. A BMI of 54.4. Truly magnificent. I tried to be nothing but encouraging, diet tips, facts about calories, talk of amino acids, vitamins, chicken breast and wheat grass shots. She even added me to her 24 hour fitness account (yes, she has a gym membership). Things were looking up! That was, until she got hungry. Then all bets were off. Chipotle, double wrapped, extra meat, cheese and sour cream. DOUBLE BACON CHEESE BURGER at Carls Jr extra large fries and soda. An entire baguette filled with cheese and turkey (so basically a 2 foot sub). It was unbearable. And the more I tried to encourage her, the more she got triggered, the more she ate, the bigger she got. More than once I watched her sneak away to her car to ravage those poor chocolate frosted mini wheats, shamed not into starving herself, but binging in private. And that gym membership? Apparently that's just a convenient place to take a shit and a shower (hopefully not in the same go). 3 times we went to the gym together and 3 times Heather failed to do a single exercise. But she never failed to take a dump, so I guess that counts as something. I'm gay but not very obvious about it, so everywhere we went people assumed that I was her chaser bf. We got many many dirty looks, store clerks were not very friendly, occasionally people flat out pointed and laughed! At first I was upset, but then realized that I would point and laugh too, so I couldn't help but share a secret smile with some confused fellow fat haters. Heather, of course, is beautiful and perfect, it's society that's flawed, so Heather felt no shame. When her shoe came untied at Walmart, she asked me to bend over and tie it for her. When I flat out refused, she decided to settle for just walking around the store with an untied shoe for the remainder of the trip.  After a few days of this, I decided to accelerate my shitlording. I started telling her she shouldn't eat things, giving her looks of disapproval, notifying her of the negative health effects of certain foods. It only accelerated her problem eating. The hours between meals transformed her into the raging green Hulk. She was prone to mood swings, crying fits, lashing out. When she finally did get to eat again at normal human intervals, she ate in survivor mode, relentless in her quest to acquire more mass, as if winter were coming, and she needed to hibernate and feed her young. Finally Heather had had enough of my concerned shitlording. We got in a very 1 sided argument (I just sat there while she went off on me, a look of utter failure and defeat draped over my face). She dropped me off and sped away to stay at a motel earlier than planned. We eventually apologized to each other but haven't talked as much since. From this experience I have learned that fat shaming is indeed an effective tool, but only to a certain threshold. Once a fatty becomes a full on ham planet, shitlording will only exacerbate the problem. Does that mean that we shouldn't shame the morbidly obese? Absolutely not. They are going to keep getting fatter anyway. They cannot be helped without surgical intervention, and even then, the odds are grim. By shitlording the obese, we have no long term affect on the fatty. They were headed to an early retirement regardless of whether we posted their picture on here or not. The best thing you can do for your overweight friends is casually shitlord on even bigger hambeasts, so they may see the error of their ways before it is too late. stay calm and shitlord on you skinny bitches.