One of my readers (thanks, Andras!) sent me an email telling me about Nigel's Big Game Blog. If you are looking for a humorous take on the PUA subculture, look no further. The premise of the blog is that chubby chaser "Nigel" uses his superior understanding of "game" to go after, well, fat women. It should be obvious that it is a parody.
"Nigel" seems to be a very smart guy, and I can only applaud his imagination. He had me in stitches.
Just check this out:
In my last post I talked about how important it is to have the wherewithal to spear a fat mammoth hoe like the one above; however there is another bear necessity for chubby chasing I forgot to mention: physical fitness. You have got to be able to handle the intense weight of a big woman, otherwise you will be squashed like the pancakes she ate for breakfast, period. Just imagine having sex with a fattie, and all the sudden she wants to be on top. If you’re serious about chubby chasing, it’s important to train like an Olympic weight lifter. Fat girls love guys with big hard bodies for sure, but more importantly it is for the practicality, for being able to handle that big business. I train hard at the gym, and that’s why I’m like a forklift lifting heavy cargo.
In a later post, he offers his take on "logistics":
I shove her in and drive off like a thief in the night. It’s critical that I drive quickly, because if the ride is too long she might expect me to get her food at a drive-through. Getting fast food for any woman is a classic amateur chubby chaser mistake. It sounds like a great idea, but in practice the food not only tires her out, but gives her less of a reason to come home with me because It eliminates both the plausible deniability and excitement of coming over my house for food. I want fatties coming to my house hungry, awake, and horny, not tired and confused. Also notice the size of the van, it can accommodate the biggest women. Yeah, I could bang her in the van, it has tinted windows, but I prefer more space to maneuver.
Once I’ve got her drooling for scooby snacks in The Mystery Machine, I drive on up to my house while continuing to promise her a five star, five course gourmet dinner — little does she know that dinner will be served in liquid form. Rather than park the vehicle in the driveway and have her painfully struggle to walk, I press my remote control garage door opener and drive into the garage, where I have the setup: a large California king sized bed, home-entertainment system with digital projector and surround sound, popcorn machine, cotton candy machine, and a fridge full of food. Once inside the garage, all she has to do is exit the van.
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