This woman is not only too fat, but also too stupid.
Ms. Ragan is 5 feet tall, and weighs in at 275 pounds. Ms. Ragan developed a spinal tumor, for which she needed an MRI. Normal MRI machines could not accommodate either her weight or her girth. Whose fault is this? Why, the MRI manufacturer’s of course. Couldn’t possibly be Ms. Ragan’s inability to cease shoving calories in her food hole.
Money quote from the delightful Ms. Ragan: “They should have machines that fit most everybody.” Uh, honey? They do have MRIs that fit most everyone. What you fail to realize is that at 5 feet, 275, you’re not “most everyone;” you’re an outlier on the human pudginess scale (BMI of 53.7, where BMI 30 is obese).
All ‘Puter asks is that people recognize the facts as they are, not as they wish they would be. Apparently a bridge too far for Ms. Ragan.
* Not an actual photo of Ms. Ragan.
** ‘Puter is also a Girthful American, so a preemptive shut yer yaps to all those who are on Ms. Ragan’s side.
Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.
’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.
The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.
His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.
He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.
Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.
‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.