Bullshit on Bouverie

Went to a housewarming yesterday, nice place, although the trek out to the NEV was a trifle wearying. You forget how far it is to get there, and such a mission to get back again. I was in an indifferent mood, but thought I should give it a chance, it might be the thing to cheer me up.
Unfortunately not even the semi-psychotic angry neighbours were enough to pull me out of my doldrums. The problem with being in a bad frame of mind is that it tends to be self perpetuating. Things that I might have found funny on some occasions compound to make life that much more unbearable. Last night I was stuck listening to people twittering on about fat people, chubby chasers and ugly people in general. I got the impression the overarching theme was "how dare fat people exert or exhibit attraction for people, it's disgusting". Which is really indicative of the kind of blind self assurance that people portray. They, of course, have never had to agonise over how they look being within the socially acceptable spectrum. Clearly they never had to buy a burger knowing that everyone was mentally suggesting that a green salad or dust might be more appropriate. Or the condescending approval should porcine go with the super trim milk. And why is it that they say nothing of people who are frighteningly thin (this is presumably less vomit inducing than someone who is overweight)? In this case it was possibly insensitive, and disingenuous, to shift the issue from sexuality to visual appeal.
So I got treated to hearing someone ragged on as being fat and ugly. Bloody hell, it was hardly roll them in flour and look for the wet spot obesity, but let's allow the party goers some dramatic licence shall we? I suppose, for me, as the resident fat ugly bitch of the flat, it is all very topical. And if I am not considered the fat ugly bitch then in light of the ghastly reactions I provoke from people I have to believe that I am loathsome on the inside and it shows.
As inevitably happens, it was then suggested to me that I should be happy because I have a job - now there's a giggle. A dead end job considered by people of my acquaintance to be mind numbing and in no way as intellectual as their studies. Lets hear it for the chubby retard, struggling on, making it in the community of normal people as best as they can. Maybe if the library doesn't work out I can always launch a career stuffing envelopes or something. It's cop out platitude from people unwilling to admit to themselves that they have it a lot easier & a lot more going for them than I do.
All this deep and meaningful thought to a background of hippy bong drumming and fire dancing? It's a wonder I didn't poison the Feng Shui.