Butterbarges in the gym are rude and delusional I absolutely detest butterhuffers (especially those of the femayo variety) who think it's their place to comment on everyone else's bodies. But the moment someone comments on theirs? SIZEISM! DISCRIMINASHUN! GENETIKS! CONDISHUNS! No. If you're going to subscribe to the HAES mentality, you need to respect people of every size. That includes people much thinner and fitter than you. TL;DR: Hams at the gym swoleshame/thinshame fit people, do very little work, think they deserve a treat because they went to the gym, and consider hitting on an attractive muscular shitlord because he must be interested in them. Disgusting. I was swoleshamed at the gym this morning by two lard buckets. I immediately thought of my fellow shitlords and ladies, so I'm sharing my story. I'm a female powerlifter/weightlifter, and I go to the gym 5-6 mornings a week with my boyfriend. I'm 5'5" and fluctuate between 120-140 lbs depending on what type of training I'm doing and whether I'm bulking or cutting. I'm currently coming off of a bulk, so I'm working on fat loss. That means my gym time is a lot of high rep, lower weight circuit training. So while my boyfriend is spending time with the heavy weights, I'm working out in the kettlebell/functional area. Every year after the VS fashion show, my gym fills up with females of all sizes. Many of them are fatties. And I never see most of them again after a day or two. Today, being the morning after the VS fashion show, was no exception. This morning, I was minding my own business in the functional area doing some kettlebell swings and burpees, when two hams walked in. I don't listen to music while I work out, but I tend to put headphones in when I'm not with my bf to avoid unwanted male attention. (I'm there to work out, not to get hit on.) This means I can hear what everyone around me is saying. These hams pull out two yoga mats and sit down on them. They're, of course, talking about the VS fashion show. According to the hams, the show is unrealistic, sizeist, and disgusting. It also needs "real women" because men like "curves," not "skeletons." I'm finding this irritating, because the VS women put A LOT of work into their bodies.  I've done about five sets while they're flapping their pieholes--they've only done one set of what I think were intended to be crunches. After a while, they notice that I'm doing much more work than they are. Since I'm wearing headphones, I assume they thought I couldn't hear them. (Or maybe that didn't even occur to them because the fat has obviously infiltrated their brains.)  Hamette: Look at her. Does she think men like women who look like that? [I look like this. WTF, I'm not even that muscley right now.] Lardina: (snorts like a pig) Ew. No, and she's obviously trying to attract all the men swinging that thing around like that. [I was doing kettlebell swings. Nothing obscene.] Hamette: That's pathetic. There's no way any man is going to want someone with muscles like that. Unless he's gay and can't tell that she's a woman. Lardina: Teehee! At this point, I'm about to go tell them off. But then I hear Trainer's voice. Trainer is a personal trainer at my gym--tall, muscular guy in his late 30s who was in the military for years. We follow some of the same sports teams, so we chat all the time. He's also a massive shitlord. Trainer: She gets hit on much more than you two ever will. And based on the way you're warming those mats, I don't think you could do half the amount of work she does. Stop talking crap about other members or get out. Hamette and Lardina pout, glare at Trainer, and scurry off as fast as their bisonbutts allow them to. Trainer and I share a shitlord/lady grin and I salute him. I continue with my workout, then go to the locker room to shower and change. I walk by Hamette and Lardina, who are doing their makeup. In their underwear tarps. My gym has little stools in front of the mirrors for women to sit on while they do their makeup. Hamette has shoved two stools together because her lardass won't fit on just one. Lardina is only sitting on one, and her rolls are drooping off the sides. Surprise surprise, they're talking about how they deserve a treat from Starbeetus (probably a venti genetiks with extra whipped cream) because they "did so much work." I'm pretty sure they only walked into the gym and tried to do one set of crunches. I nearly barf to myself then go back to minding my own business. As I said before, I go to the gym with Boyfriend. We generally leave together, so he frequently waits for me in the lobby for a few minutes while I finish up in the locker room. He's exactly the type of guy tubblerinas love to hit on. 6'3", blue eyes, long blonde hair, short beard. His coworkers call him Thor because he looks a bit like Chris Hemsworth. I finish up in the locker room and walk out to the lobby. The fupacabras are blocking my way with their rolls of disgusting. As I squeeze around them, I hear them whispering loudly to one another. Hamette is talking about giving some guy her number. Lardina is trying to convince her that the guy is totally interested and that she should do it. I don't think much of it until I see that they're looking over at Boyfriend, who is standing in the lobby. He's looking very uncomfortable because he's afraid that one of the heifers is about to attack him. I can't believe the shitlording opportunity luck tossed in my lap. I grin and walk up to Boyfriend. I greet him--"Hey, babe!" He looks so relieved. I wink and tilt my head in the direction of the mayo barges. Boyfriend catches on. "Hey, sexy! You look great! I love how lean you're getting." To top it off, he gives me a kiss and grabs my ass. I glance back at the fupa troopers and give them a giant grin. Their faces are contorted in what I assume to be confusion and disappointment. It's hard to tell. Fin.