Does this Stress Make Me Look Fat? (Post Mortem: Been That, Done There)


Welcome to the end of this amazing book serial from Anthony Rhody:

Does This Stress Make Me Look Fat? (NOT A MANIFESTO)

Read the full thing here.

So there you have it, Doctor.

As you can see, I need full-time medical attention including a Vicodin drip and a round-the-clock male nurse who abandoned his porn career only because he had gotten too popular.

Please help!

If I don’t learn to assimilate with people more effectively there is no telling what may become of me.

I need to find something to become addicted to – something self-destructive such as stuffing my pie-hole with junk, driving drunk, injecting myself with things that may eventually kill me because I’m convinced things are not going the way they should.

Something that will make me more like commoners.

As it has been for a long time now, it’s as if I’m not even from this planet…

Or maybe…

Maybe I am here to help people, tell them what it is that’s wrong with them and how they might improve themselves.

Yes, yes, that’s it.

I am not the one that needs help.

I am the one that should be helping others.

I could set up maybe a card table over on the sidewalk with all the foot traffic.

I could make a sign that says something like I’LL BE THE JUDGE OF THAT! and people would sit down and ask me questions and I would give them advice whether they think they need it or not.

That’s it! I shall use my powers for good!

You know what, Doctor

This has been a very therapeutic exercise.

I don’t need your help at all so you can go take your degree, roll it up real tight and cram it!

You’re probably not even a real Doctor.

You make me vomit.

I ought to punch you right in your fat face!

Good day to you, sir!

I will see myself out.

Author: Anthony Rhody

My name is Anthony Rhody. I was born in a small midwestern town when I was very young. I am a recovering Catholic and lapsed homosexual. Henceforth I spend a lot less time on my knees. I was a film major at Columbia in Chicago after my career in high school ended in scandal and must-deserved notoriety, plus a diploma. After two years of life in a seventeen-story dorm I was told I should go to the west coast (true story). Since then I have been a screenwriter primarily and a playwright on rare occasion. When I realized a couple years ago I had too many notes on humor and funny schtick to ever use in screenplays I decided to try to see how many of them I could throw together as a book of humor. "Does This Stress Make Me Look Fat?" is that book, not a medical journal on over-eating. I don't have any children and as far as I know, no sexual partners. I have lived in San Francisco since before there was a homeless problem - sorry, before so many folks were home free.