The story so far, as told by /u/Tozetre and then myself:
I can swear to you all that all of this is 100% true.
Me: Auschwitzmode 6’0 143lbs human skeleton, working nights in a hotel lobby.
Roomies: watchin' dat train wreck.
SilkHam: 400 or so pounds of you're-all-just-jealous-at-least-I-HAVE-a-girlfriend at least her boobs are big right?.
So I guess the last post was light on fatlogic; /u/Tozetre took all the best bits and I took her lady bits killme but I'ma include some incredible stupidity in the kitchen in this one!
Picking up where I left off:
Eventually she moved in with me, on account of I couldn't bear to leave m’lady in that abusive household where she was in danger every day!
So she moved in, sharing my bed (it was a tight fit, but I was nocturnal so it worked out) and my food (I saved a lot by being damn near anorexic). She promised to seek employment while I slept. She put out a lot, claiming to actually be a nymphomaniac. She promised to do chores around the house. Seemed like a good deal, since the house’s occupants were 6 dudes in their 20s.
For the record, she kept the Safeway job that resulted from Toze’s story about job hunting for a total of three days, after which she quit because “The customers are all mean to me!!” We live in Alberta. I have worked grocery. People are rarely-to-never mean to cashiers at Safeway.
The “exboyfriend stalker” allegedly sent her a message telling her she looked happy and he was going away. This happened because I was going to call the police and she knew that she’d be caught in the lie if I did, so she conveniently wrote him out of the drama of our lives.
It didn't take long for me to realize something was off. She couldn't walk 2 blocks without stopping and dramatically bending over at the waist to catch her breath, odd for someone who is “perfectly healthy”. It was embarrassing to be around that scene. I gently convinced her to start walking around the block every day. I was still convinced she could be an amazing person, she was just a “fixer-upper”. Of course the walks happened at lunchtime while I slept, meaning they didn't happen.
I want to take a moment to talk about how she walked. She didn't, really. What she did was heave her bulk in the direction she wanted to go, then move her legs underneath to make sure she didn't fall. She was the clumsiest thing I've ever seen. She constantly tripped on things, partly because she couldn't see her feet.
One time I needed to go out to do things all day. She was at her desk (my old desk) at her computer (my old computer) playing the Sims (my copy, natch).
“SilkHam, please wash ONE LOAD of laundry today. The basket is right behind you. Three inches away.”
“Okay, I promise!”
“SilkHam, why didn’t you do the laundry? You didn’t even get out of your chair!”
“WHAAAAH I’m a bad person I’m so sorry pleeeease don’t be mad”
And the food, ohgod the food. She loved eating takeout, we would routinely order boxes of wings and fried shrimp. Left a mess all over the bedroom, AKA the place she never left except to use the toilet. I once stepped on a package of ranch dressing that was under laundry on the floor.
So one day she offered to cook for me, to redeem herself for some of this shit. Also to make me bigger. She would alternate between saying we had to put meat on my bones (true) and telling me I had a "swimmer's body" (false, but closer to true today :D). She made me a casserole! Here's the recie, from my memory:
- 1 package of ground beef
- Some pasta or bread or something, I forget. Carbs.
- 1 block of cheese
Place frozen meat-brick in glass baking pan.
Add carbs on top
Grate cheese over all this
Bake until it smells done.
Do you all see the problem with this? I had to ask:
"Shouldn't you brown the beef and drain off the grease first?"
No way, it'll bake just fine from frozen!
"But... all that grease?"
So when this thing was complete (we named it "Steve"), I had a serving. It was edible, but then to me so was styrofoam. I offered it to some roomies, all of whom turned it down without a moment's consideration. I didn't quite understand why until an hour or two later.
30 minutes sitting on the toilet trying to pass a serving of this mess
SilkHam knocks on the door
"Are you all right?"
"Is it Steve?"
holyfuckinghell yes it's fucking steve I'm going to get a prolapse in here
"So... no more Steve next time I cook? teehee
As near as I can tell, this was her logic:
- If you can't see the grease, it's not in the food!
- Grease evaporates in the oven maybe?
- Screw the laws of thermodynamics, I told you I'm healthy and I eat things like this all the time so it must be okay.
TL;DR: SilkHam tried to give me a heart attack. Shitlord roomies let it happen.