They're creepy and they're obese,
Their waistlines on the increase,
They eat too much cooked in grease .
The Fatass Family.
Their pantry’s full of junk food.
They’re often fat and drunk, too.
If you don’t like it, funk you.
The Fatass Family.
Da da da dunnnnnt
(Classy)
Da da da dunnnnnt
(Sassy)
Da da da dunnnnnt
Da da da dunnnnnt
Da da da dunnn
(Assy)
So grab a cup of green tea
(it doesn’t have caffeine, see)
I really hope they’ll feed me.
The Faaatassssss Family.
“Next!” I shouted.
“Who are you talking to?” asked my daughter Pisa.
“To all the bloggers who are auditioning for my 'Fatass Family' post,” I told her. “And where’s your goth dress, by the way?”
“I told you I’m not playing the little girl?” she exclaimed.
“Weighinsday Fatass.”
“Huh?” frowned Pisa.
“You know, like Wednesday Addams…”
“Oh yeah,” she half-smiled. “Hee-larious, Dad.”
“I don’t get it,” I remarked. “I thought there’d be loads of people trying out for these parts, especially after my Sh*tagain’s Island posts.”
“Ummmm, how would anybody know you were holding auditions?”
“I announced it in my blog,” I told her.
“When?”
“Ummmmm… today,” I stammered.
Pisa rolled her eyes.
“That’s right,” I said. “I’m going to go through today’s comments and choose bloggers to star in my upcoming Fatass Family post.”
“Well, that could work,” shrugged Pisa.
“Damn straight!” I smiled. “NEXT!”
Ummmm… I’m talking to YOU.
What part do you want and why should I choose you? Tell me... with feeling!
Action!
Action!
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