by Polysorbate 60 (email@example.com)
Thus, I dedicate the following oeuvre to the memorably large asses of my early childhood. If you think about it, a large ass can be a very frightening thing for a small child. Consider that most young childrens' experience of adults, when they aren't in their parents arms, is from the waist down. There you are, four or five years old, and you find yourself face-to-fat with an enormous pair of cheeks that not only tower high above you, but also outweigh you by a good twenty pounds. My parents, being reasonably fit, had modest behinds; as such, I was a stranger to the vast, bizarre world of fat asses that so many of us take for granted. The numerous ass-encounters of my pre-school years, while for the most part revolting rather than scarring, have resulted in a select series of bulbous buttocks being permanently blazed into my memory.
(names unchanged to indict the guilty)
(1) The Next-Door Neighbor-Lady, Dale
God did she have a fat ass. I'd go over to call for my friend Chris (her son) and she would answer the door, her joweled, piggish face crowned by a spiky mass of pastel hair-curlers. As she would turn to scream "Chris" up the stairs, I would watch, fascinated, as her immeasurable buttocks rotated through some one hundred and eighty degrees. Slowly, the giant bottom would be revealed to me, passing through the quarter-moon, the half, the three-quarters until the tides changed, the werewolf howled its eternal agony, and I was presented with the fullness of Dale's tremendous backside. Though I did not have the theoretical knowledge to verbalize it, I always had the vague fear, with that innate understanding of physics common to all children, that the inertia of her vast posterior would somehow cause her to overbalance and crash to the floor. I think Chris was terrified of her. I know I was.
(2) Linda the Oral Hygienist
No child of four looks forward to a visit to the dentist, and I was no exception. My fear, however, was not of whirring drills, sharp steel probes, nor even that awful bubble gum- flavored fluoride treatment, but of Linda's mountainous derriere. There I would be, sitting innocently in the large, tan imitation-leather dentist's chair, my mouth bubble gum-fresh from the fluoride treatment, wishing for another Dixie-cup of water to rinse the horrid taste from my mouth. Linda would come in, smiling her cheerful smile, and gazing owlishly at me through her large round glasses. Everything would be fine until she bent over to get me my new toothbrush out of the bottom drawer. Then, without warning, I would be confronted by her gigantic ass, in all it's stark, hospital-green, bulging obesity. The twin hemispheres would strain mightily at the translucent fabric of her polyester slacks, fighting for freedom as she rummaged for my favorite color. I would watch in horror as the crudely stitched, Made-In-Taiwan seams were stretched to their absolute limit, fearing that THIS time they would break under the strain of her tremendous fleshy bulk. Each time I prepared myself for the worst, praying that the thin thread would be able to prevent ONE LAST escape attempt by Linda's mammoth tush. That expertly- woven Taiwanese fabric continued to fight the good fight throughout my years with Dr. Wilson, and thus my sanity remained intact.
(3) Large Woman in Loblaws, circa 1979
I only saw her once. That was enough. It was the biggest ass I think I've ever seen, perhaps the largest that has ever existed. Piled precariously on top of two massive, Suomo- wrestler legs, it MORE than amply filled her tent-like pink jogging pants. I still recall that as I watched, she selected several rows of Mr. Christie cookies from the shelf, gathering her beloved in her flabby arms and arranging them gently in her overflowing cart. Then, to my disgusted delight, she delicately de-wedgied several feet of pink fleece from the dark canyon that divided the two halves of her colossal fat-farm keester. From that day forward, I have never eaten a Mr. Christie cookie.
(4) Bob, my Dad's Boss
"Call me Uncle Bob" he said after introductions, but all I could think was "That guy has a BIG BUM." So, from then on he was UNCLE BIG BUM BOB. It's not really that common for men to have large asses. Usually men's fat is strictly a gut thing; you know, you see a man with a little tiny bum and this giant, third- trimester-we're-pretty-sure-it's-twins GUT. It's pretty funny- looking when you think about it. But Bob, Uncle Bob, had one of the biggest asses I've ever seen. It used to make me laugh to imagine him farting; I bet his huge cheeks flapped and made a really funny noise.
(5) Mrs. Edmunds, the Librarian at my Elementary School
OK, so I said this was only going to be pre-school asses. I lied; this woman's ass made such an impression on me, that I had to include it here. Her butt was not just disgustingly HUGE, but it had a certain shelf-like quality to it that was truly amazing. Really, her ass didn't gently SWELL like some fat asses, it actually made a ninety-degree angle with her back. You could set something down on Mrs. Edmunds' shelf-ass and it would stay there. It really was quite an anatomically anomaly. A paradox of pudge. Some recesses, when there was nothing else to do, we would just stand around discussing Mrs. Edmunds' ass. Was it real? Did she have something hidden up there? Was she ass-pregnant? We thought it was very practical; she could carry books around on it if she wanted to. Mrs. Edmunds favored bulky, shapeless skirts, so we could never be completely sure that she had a REAL pair of buttocks and not some sort of strange prosthetic or bizarre ass-disfiguration. To this day, Mrs. Edmunds' ass remains a mystery.
If you are around small children, and have a fat ass, remember that you might be affecting these children permanently.
The Journal of Substance, Wit,and Dangerous Masturbatory Habits