Why make fat men happy
I recently met a man whom I should marry on the spot. This man did not look very good, did not wear great clothes, and was just middling. Nevertheless, I thought to live with this man must be a dream. Because he ate a decent portion. In an evening invitation, he ate four courses without comment with two real Nachschlagportionen from the Pulardenbrust in warm Balsamicosoße. And best of all, he had a little slap that suggested he regularly took such portions. When he sat, a nice bit of pancetta arched over the waistband. I was excited. You're probably screaming out loud now because you've been trying to shut your guy off for two years, but I do not care.
Thin men are a vulgarity
I think it's time to write a plea for well-fed men. And you can believe me: I'm doing this out of a certain amount of suffering. The men I spent most of my life with had one thing in common: they were thin. Very thin. Well-nourished men were in my previous male canon just not, I would like nothing better than a well-fed man. I'm a little bit worn out, that's what I admit here quite frankly. I am not fat, but eat up. And I want a man who is fatter than me. A man with whom I can eat with pleasure, without feeling like I'm in bed next to him like the Alps. Other women like to find skinny men, I find thin men simply a vulgarity.
The meanest of all, the skinny men, who eat three times of the Gorgonzola cream gratin, wash a packet of double-cheese chips with cola for dessert and, as a midnight snack, polish a slab of whole milk nut, only to find that they can eat What they wanted, but just did not grow. They like to postpone this to a chronically increased fat burning as a result of the insane performance sports they did in their teens. When such a man eats with me and delights pleasurably in three Nachinkportionen in itself, I find it difficult to keep under control. Because the supposedly great thing is: no matter how much I eat, it will still be less than what he eats. The only difference is that I'm going to mercilessly broaden my width soon as he keeps looking down at his ex-pole vaulting and wondering where all the chips are.
But at least as depressing is the second genre of the thin man: the you-I-just-not-so-much-at-a-time-food guy. This man is a gourmet. He spends hours in delicatessens, knows that Culatello is an Italian ham variety, can cook well, and create the best menus - but you'll eat alone. A Sunday with this genus man starts by eating about three tablespoons of cornflakes for breakfast and sticking your sweeter croissant-honey-bun-milk-coffee-breakfast in your throat. That's why you have a hunger for bears at the latest in the early afternoon.
The thin breakfasted man is now hungry for once, but he would have "forgotten" it if you did not remind him that you could possibly have a snack after all. (At this point, I have to insert a question: How on earth can you please forget about hunger?) In the evening, the man will lovingly prepare an elaborate pasta dish with seafood, and you can run into it in delighted anticipation. But after he has draped ten to fifteen spaghetti on his plate and eagerly eaten, he will say he is totally fed up. There would be absolutely nothing left now.
And you? Fight briefly an inner pleasure-versus-discipline battle, fill in the rest of the damn tasty pasta dish alone and soon wear a denim size bigger than him. But worse still, they feel bloody and devoured with every meal they eat, because even your lowest daily allowance will always be greater than yours.
I want a man who begs for a lookup.
Finally, the enjoyment nihilist is to be mentioned. His unwillingness to eat arises either from a penetrating health thought or a student Aldi socialization. My girlfriend had such a time. The man has claimed that he does not care what he eats, it would taste the same anyway. Main thing, he would take enough fiber to himself. With the success that on six out of seven evenings there was whole grain rice with tomato sauce. Gladly also warmed up the day before.Apart from the fact that my girlfriend developed an extreme aggressiveness before the common meals, his hip bones drilled so much in the sex during her sex that she had to part for physical reasons.
Well, I decided to stop having thin men. Food is definitely too existential to feel bad every time. And you make them in a relationship so comparatively often together. Forget about the talk of similar social background, equal attitude to life and consistent humor: The basis of a functioning love relationship is an identical eating behavior and a similar type of fat burning. In addition, it is important to make sure that not only the tastes are similar, but also the amount of food absorbed in proportion to the body size.
All I want to do is sit down with men at the table, who are as happy as I can shovel the noodles on the plate and then plead with them, please tell them to leave the lookup. Men who eat four to five rolls during an extended breakfast without batting an eyelash and make me feel that my three ribs are a really clear diet portion. Men who do not say after their daily chip-chocolate-cola ration, "I do not know why I'm not gaining." And especially men who wear at least two jeans sizes larger than me and do not feel like hugging a wall when hugging. In terms of body volume, emancipation stops for me.
