Q: What has two arms, two legs, and a weight more or less proportional to its height?

A: Absolutely fucking nothing.

- - -

Two pieces of string walk into a bar and ask the bartender for a beer. The bartender says, “We don’t serve your kind.” The two pieces of string step outside and one says to the other, “I’ve got a plan to get us into that bar. We’ll tie ourselves together and the bartender will never recognize us.” The other piece of string says, “Great plan!” Then the first string reconsiders and says, “Fuck, let’s face it: we got kicked out because I’m still not thin enough.” The other string replies, “But we’re string. String is pretty thin, my friend.” The first string thinks about this and says, “OK, new plan. I’m going to get a prescription from my doctor. It’s basically speed and I love speed, and if I get skinny enough my parents will love me, my friends will envy me, and we’ll never get hassled by asshole bartenders like this guy again. Jesus Christ, I feel so fucking fat right now.”

- - -

Q: What do they call French toast in Paris?

A: There’s so much fucking fat in French toast! Are you trying to make me fat?

- - -

This woman pays a visit to her psychiatrist. She’s attractive, well paid in her profession, and generally well liked by friends and colleagues. She says, “Here’s the thing, Doctor. I think everyone in the world is staring at me. And I think the only reason they’re staring is because I’m a big fat fucking ugly pig with fat on my …” The psychiatrist stops her and says, “I’m going to interrupt you there. I can tell you right now, quite objectively, that none of that is true. To be blunt, you’re smart and attractive and a very likable person. If anything, I was going to comment that you seem a bit thin and tired: maybe even a bit frail and underweight. Sometimes we have a lot of ill-informed feelings, and in here the goal is to get to the root of those feelings, so we can see why it is we’re doing what we’re doing.” He’s evidently struck a chord, because the woman instantly breaks down in gentle sobs, repeatedly nodding in agreement. She wipes her eyes, blows her nose, looks at him, and says, “You’re right, you’re right … I need a nose job, and my ass never looked good in jeans. I think that’s why I pack on the fucking lard like this.”