In every generation, there is a word or phrase that is so powerful that it can stand alone as a title. F.U.P.A. is the atomic bomb of powerful titles. It’s an acronym, just like S.C.U.B.A, Self Contained Breathing Apparatus and F.U.C.K. , Fornicating Under Consent of King.  F.U.P.A. is of course, the Fat Upper Pussy/Penis/Pelvic/Pubic  Area. Biologists have been baffled for years by the girth that some people are able to obtain in their F.U.P.A. Fashion minds all over the planet have been working tirelessly, trying to find perfect way to hide the F.U.P.A. It’s impossible. The population is getting too fat. When I was a kid, the only difference between a medium pizza and a large was how many slices they divided it into. Now, they actually make the pizzas different sizes. It’s absolute gluttony. Blubber is not Flashion. No matter what, even if it turns out to be an alternative fuel that’s eco-friendly, yeah eco-friendly except for the slaughtering of blubbery animals. It’s okay to be a little bigger, those models in the magazines are unrealistic, between the photo editing and the lack of sustenance, it’s a complete fabrication of a true person. If I were a lardo, I’d make sure to be the big butt kind or the flabby arm type, anything around my main plumbing, is not where I want to be jiggling. Stay at whatever weight makes you comfortable. Just know you look gross if it looks like you have a pillow on your lap at all times. The F.U.P.A. is Trashion. About time someone put it in writing. I smell Pulitzer.

P.S. Sitting down on a stool is the worst decision for a F.U.P.A. sufferer. Stick to booths with high tables.

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