Shitlords/ladies/and any other kins here: gimme your best comebacks for dealing with Hammate. See comment. Ok, I'm tired of hammate's insistence that there is something growing inside of her causing her weight gain and bloat. I'm seriously done with it. Every. single. motherfucking. day. she brings it up. In my head I'm screaming shut the fuck up about it and quit eating candy all the motherfucking time!  Seriously, I don't care what she eats. If she wants to get as big as a house and be impossible to evacuate in case of a fire, not my problem! But she asks me something about her goddamn fattass belly every damn day. What the hell does she want from me?   Today, I laid it out. I told her I eat when I'm hungry. When I'm full I stop. That's it. I don't eat on a schedule, I don't weigh out food, I don't eat candy and other sweets (very rarely), I don't stress eat. In fact, in times of stress I'm more likely to lose weight than gain. I have to tell myself to eat, otherwise I don't even think about food. I don't understand your relationship to food at all but I know that you love it.  Hammie interrupting: I don't eat sweets that often either. As I look over at the infamous candy dish that she refills 2-3 times a week. Me: you just asked me to get you a banana split the other day and I said no. So you settled for an ice cream sandwich instead. Me: every single fucking day you eat sweets. It's in your coffee, it's in your shakes, it's in your candy, you probably add sugar to your fries. I picked up cheeseburgers for us the other day, all I wanted was a cheeseburger... not you, had to get fries and a dessert.  Her: well none of that accounts for how I feel all this pressure pushing down on me on the inside over here. Me: well, what organ is over there. Her; well nothing according to these damn good for nothing doctors.  Me: I don't know what to tell you. Perhaps it's gas. Maybe you just need to fart. I'm not a doctor, nor a dietician but I can tell you that the amount of sugar you have in your diet is why your scale is going up.  She puts on her head phones which signals to me that she's done with this conversation that she fucking started.  I think this conversation was precipitated because I had made an offhand comment about needing to wear a belt so my jeans wouldn't slide down. Which, while I can see now it was subtly shitlordy, I truly was just making an offhand comment.  Anyway, I'm not worried about losing my home. And at this point I could care less about being friendly. So, give me some good comebacks next time she brings this up to me, please.