To all the fat fucks who complain about stores not carrying their sizes A resounding fuck you. That's right. Fuck you, you disgusting eatbeasts, for ruining clothing sizes for all of us human beings.  "BUHT STORES DUN CARRY MA (SNORT) SIZE REEEEE." FUCK YOU. FUCK OFF. SERIOUSLY, GO DIE. I suppose I should get to the story at some point, instead of just virtually screaming? Well, boys and girls, I just got a new job today (yay me) that required I go out and get a long-sleeved button-down blouse for my first day. Which is tomorrow. Woo. I'M 5'-GODDAMN-6" WITH THE MEASUREMENTS OF 36"-28"-36" AND DO YOU WANT TO KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO FIND A FUCKING SHIRT THAT ACTUALLY (SOMEWHAT) FIT? FOUR. FUCKING. HOURS. SIX. FUCKING. STORES.  Two of those stores didn't even carry anything smaller than a medium. And by medium, I mean a tarp that would have been large enough for me to smuggle an oompa loompa under while wearing it. One of the stores carried a small that buttoned just fine over my tits before FLARING THE FUCK OUT OVER MY STOMACH LIKE IT WAS A GODDAMN MATERNITY SHIRT. LIKE WTF. I sent a picture to a friend, bitching, and he was all like, "Well, aren't women's clothes supposed to flare out like that to accommodate your hips?" MY HIPS DON'T START UNDERNEATH MY TITS, GENIUS. SO, NO. ALSO, I'M A GIRL, NOT A BUFFALO, SO MY HIPS AREN'T THAT FUCKING BIG.  Finally, FINALLY, at store number six, I found something. It was the last goddamn small in the entire section, a small proclaiming itself to be a "slim fit." This ended up translating to, "I'm still going to flare out because 'MURICA but at least I'll actually fit your arms." Fine. Whatever. Good enough. When I went up to pay for the mini tarp, the poor cashier mechanically asked, "Did you find everything alright?" And I answered this question in the only way I possibly could at this point in time: by going on a hate-fueled tirade about how all the clothes these days are beluga-sized and waaaaay too big for me. Not to give the poor cashier a hard time, no. But because I could see out of the corner of my eye that a hulking femayo was next in line, waiting to purchase a new circus tent to cover its REAL WOMYNLY CURVEZ.  I made sure to be loud in my verbal rant. Hopefully, I triggered it into eating its weight in icecream when it got home. Bonus: I accidentally ended up wandering into plus size sections in two separate stores because THEY NO LONGER LABEL THEM AS PLUS, APPARENTLY? At least not down here in the southern U.S. (cue banjo music). Oh, no. That's too much for these heifers' delicate feefees. No, instead, these sections are simply labeled as "woman." Yes, because there's nothing more womanly than a 5X elephant blanket. Tl;Dr: Fat people suck and vanity sizing can go choke on a dead man's dingly.