We, the fatbacks, must lurk under the cover of concealing shirts and jackets, but the time is near when we shall rise up and be counted.
So let the low-brow, knuckle-walking, skinny-assed savages have their fun now, because when we make our move, the age of the fatback begins. We'll stomp around this planet like drunken titans, hell-bent for joy and the real truth.
More later.
Until then, peace, love, and a fat, hairy back to you, my friend... godspeed.
The Anti-Dave Thomas League (The moron who own's Wendy's)
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