If you’re going to be a man, you need to act like one.
We welcome you and couldn’t be happier to have you on our team. Maybe a bunch of us should meet up at Hooters sometime, say, Monday Night Football? They usually have a special on wings and cheap drafts. Bears/Eagles up next. Are you in a fantasy league? What do you drive?
Okay, Chaz, I’m assuming that close to half of the terms in the last paragraph may be foreign to you but that’s what we’re determined to work on.
You were eliminated from competition on Dancing with the Stars. The judges bullied you, they called you names. You got your feelings hurt. It happens.
Forget sewing on a pair, you need to grow one. Let’s get started.
As for the show, you put yourself out there, people got to see you for you and you’re viewed as the LGBT Jackie Robinson of DWTS.
Good on ya. That took balls.
The judges are mean and there’s always one who’s meanest of all — this happens on reality TV. Deal with it. You know that going in. It’s like complaining that Simon Cowell offered hurtful criticism, MTV put you in an embarrassing spot or Fear Factor made you eat something that isn’t on the Del Frisco’s menu. Well, yeah, they all tend to do that.
I’ll refer you to words valuably imparted to me at a young age, when I too was bullied for being overweight: “I’m rubber you’re glue, your words bounce off me and stick to you.” There’s another about sticks and stones, also quite good.
This “bullying” thing is a crutch. You’re 42 years old, Chaz. I don’t care about your gender and clearly the judges didn’t either. They called you “a basketball, a penguin, an Ewok.” The reassignment process accounts for the weight gain, not the issue. You’re cut miles of slack on that, we get it. But people have been called worse without tossing the bullying card.
Consider your card revoked until you can demonstrate a tougher skin. The judges are assholes, no kidding. If you were 12 and not on a reality show, I’d agree those names were completely uncalled for.
There’s always a fat person on these shows — this is television. You grew up in it, you should know this better than anyone. There was a fat guy on Lost, Gilligan’s Island, ‘N Sync. There’s an entire show that’s nothing but fat people trying not to be fat people. On this particular program, this particular season, the fat person was you. Did you not look around, first day on the set?
It’s unbecoming for a man to play the victim, even more to be this trigger-happy. You’ve been through too much to rely on that. You’ve come a long way, baby.
If you failed to anticipate mention of excess weight not necessarily allowing for advanced freedom of movement — which most agree is an important aspect of dance — you should have a long talk with your agent. That’s not being realistic to the concept of judges actually doing their job. Don’t get caught up in the descriptions and the words they use.
Would you prefer they lie to you?
Did you ever think that maybe the judges toned it down? Were you asked why you decided against dancing to a “Fat Benatar” song? Did they call you “Fatty McLardass” or question if rehearsals were interfering with your plans to be Macy’s Day Parade float?
Men are stronger than words.
You complain of a double standard — Kirstie Alley was treated better by the judges. That’s fighting fat with fat, bringing Kirstie into this is completely undignified.
I’d point out that Kirstie Alley lost several thousand pounds in the process of training and rehearsing — and she finished second! In truth, she’s lost 100 pounds since, which is amazing! She attributes her weight loss to dancing and hasn’t stopped, averaging 4 to 5 hours a day.
What do you bench? Do you deadlift? Squat? Imagine for a moment lifting 100 pounds, that’s what this 60-year old woman is no longer lugging around. This is highly impressive.
Add to that, the previous season, Kyle Massey also finished second, losing 18 pounds and eight inches off his waistline in the process. These are the transformations that quite possibly led producers to select you and America was hoping would inspire you into better health. You look the same as when you started, kind of like a basketball. Dress you in a tux and how can one not think penguin?
I’m guessing many in your circle won’t break it to you with this degree of brutal honesty, so these words are no doubt refreshing. Late-night comedians leave you alone. When has Kirstie Alley not been the go-to punchline to a fat joke? Paris Hilton is a slut, George W. Bush is stupid, Kirstie Alley is fat — these are dependable punching bags and be grateful you’re not one of them.
Not to start a pissing contest, but in terms of attitude comparison, here’s a recent cover of People Magazine. J.R. Martinez, fan favorite and leading DWTS vote-getter. Iraq war vet, burned over 40% of his body in 2003, he wanted to die.
I never knew what he looked like originally until this cover, only how he appears today — always smiling, it’s infectious. See him and you can’t help but smile too, it eliminates any ability for your mind to linger on the disfigurement caused when his Humvee hit a landmine.
An astonishing transformation from pain to joy, changing his body dramatically but leaving his mind purely focused on generating positivity. J.R. is full of life and a motivating force for those touched by his story. It’s a remarkable thing to see a man pull himself up from the hopeless mindset that overwhelmed him 7 or 8 years ago to where he’s brought himself today, on the wings of unwavering self-confidence. If that can’t inspire someone, nothing can.
Do you ever hear him say, “look at me, feel for me, I’ve been slighted” or allow name-calling to get him down, seek people to blame?
America adores people like J.R. because he’s full of determination and overcame one of the most gruesome and difficult struggles one can only imagine. America is tired of whiners who fly across the country — LA to NY — specifically to give an interview on Good Morning America where they say they were called bad names and bullied. I’ll say it again, Chaz, you’re 42 years old — grow a pair.
If you can’t handle this criticism, you’ve only proven my point. Tattoos aren’t enough to make a man, the rest needs to come from inside. It can’t be a facade protecting an empty building.
When Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier, he carried the mantle for an entire race and endured a spotlight that started in 1947 and some would say followed him the rest of his life. He took far greater abuse than you will ever be subjected to. Rookie of the Year (1947) and National League Most Valuable Player (1949) — that shuts a lot of people up. It’s not enough to be Jackie Robinson, you have to play like him as well.
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