Fatbooth is my dirty little secret
I was always thin, skinny even, no matter what I ate, until a few years ago when I gained about 40 pounds. It was a very difficult period for me, not so much because of the weight, but because of what brought it on: heavy health issues and treatments that totally kicked my ass and sent my hormones into oblivion. When I look back on photos from that period, when I was gaining, and unable to lose, pounds which I am grateful to have now shed, I’m glad I went through it. I’m glad I got to understand how a body can get out of control, and how weight is not always an issue related to eating. I’m glad for what it taught me.
Now that I’m (almost) back down to the size I was before, I have this one guilty pleasure which makes me look back at those hard times with a dose of hilarity. It’s Fatbooth, certainly the longest running contender for “stupid apps that I can not quite bring myself to delete.” It feeds my sense of self-deprecation (and that of others), and my sense of humor, which I heartfully admit is akin to that of a 12 year old boy.
This app is as useless as laughter, but it brings me so many giggles, and is a good icebreaker in awkward moments. Because, well, don’t you want to know how you, or your friends, or your dog, would look like after putting on a hundred or so extra pounds?
How does it work? Oh, it’s easy as (a highly caloric) pie. Open the app, and take a photos or yourself or a friend, straight on. Fix the eye, chin, and mouth placement, and presto, gobble-gobble, undeniable hilarity and base humor ensues. You can text or email the photos to the victim directly from the app, so it makes for a nice souvenir at parties.