Fucking fat promo hams pt 2 Part 1 located here, but in short, I'm a promotional model who normally works parties, concerts, and expos on the weekends, but this weekend, I was working for a lower-end client. Which meant I was subjected to the horror of ham coworkers.  We'll call them Fatty 1 and Fatty 2. Both fatties are pregnant, btw. Fatty 1 is 5 months prego. Fatty 2 is 6 months. They both just look fat as fuck. The sort of fat as fuck where you can't tell they're pregnant, so you just sorta have to take their word for it. Anywho. Fatty 1 showed up on site today shortly after I did. Which meant it showed up early (I was quite surprised myself), huffing and puffing and using an umbrella as a makeshift walking cane. I shit you not, guys, this beast was lurching along, slamming its bulk onto that poor umbrella with each waddling step.  I applaud the person who designed it.  Fatty 1 then came up to me and began whining (like I care) about how it didn't want to work today (yeah, still don't care, bitch) because its family wanted to take it to dinner tonight (boo-fucking-hoo). But guys, guys, do you know why its family wanted to take it to dinner? Because it has surgery in the morning. To get a cyst removed.  What the what? First off, I don't need to know about the inner workings of your cyst-filled body, heifer. And, for two, WHAT THE FUCK KINDA LOGIC IS THAT? "AWE [sic] MA BABEH IS GETTIN CUT ON. HERE, HAVE SUM BEETUS, BABEH. GOTTA KEEP YOUR SHUGAHS UP FOR DAT SURGERY." Fatty 1 idly wondered aloud if our event manager would let her leave early for that. I simply shrugged and went back to browsing FPH on my phone, hoping to stumble across some new material to keep my hatefire burning long enough to make it through this shift. So, Event Manager finally showed up, along with Fatty 2 (the former being right on time and the latter being a half hour late). I overheard Fatty 1 asking about the potential for leaving early and the Manager saying he would only allow that to happen if it were for an emergency (and eating the beetus is far from an emergency, folks). So, in typical buttergoblin fashion, Fatty 1 lied. But I wouldn't find this out until later.  When Event Manager asked me to go carry something for Fatty 1 because "she's dilating right now and shouldn't lift that [5 lb bag]." WHAT. THE. LITERAL. FUCK.  Yes, yes that's right. This shameless greasegobbler used its unborn child as an excuse to cut work to go stuff its maw. Out of all the excuses to come up with, though, it came up with PREMATURE LABOR? AT 5 MONTHS PREGGERS. But, oh oh, it wasn't such a dire emergency that it had to leave immediately. No, like a real womyn, it was able to make it through one shift before leaving to go "get her vag sewn back up so her baby doesn't come out before it's ready." I really wish I was making this shit up, but you really can't make this sort of utter hammy shit up. So, yeah, bitch left. I had to pick up its slack. I hope it choked on whatever vile slop it found at the buffet I'm assuming it went to.  Bonus Hamminess: I was working right outside a venue that was hosting a stage production of a popular kids' movie... And I just happen to look like one of the characters in the movie (coincidence). At one point during my first shift, I heard this mayo-clogged manly voice from behind me rumble, "Uh, hey." When I turned to face the speaker, though, I was met with a full-blown mouth-breathing beluga of the Tubblrina subspecies. Who proceeded to go into full-on fanham mode over the fact that I resemble this character. Maw agape, buggy-eyed, practically snorting with excitement.  I swiftly turned back to my work, though, and the beast lumbered off to go terrorize a village or something.  Tl;Dr: Hams did ham things. The end.