from Gawker (http://gawker.com/#!5787494/obese-man-found-fused-to-chair-dies)
QuoteAn obese man died after being found "fused to his chair" in his Bellaire, Ohio home, where he had sat in a recliner for two years. Police—called by his girlfriend—had remove him through a hole in the wall.
"Community reaction is intense," local CBS affiliate WTRF tells us. ("Vomit" counts as "intense reaction," as does "an unbelievable, existential sadness.") One officer called it "the worst thing he ever responded to," and another "threw away his soiled uniform after freeing the man."
Questions, obviously, remain: Was he actually fused to his chair? (Yes, according to WRTF, "with bedsores, maggots and excrement everywhere"; no, according to ABC affiliates which report that "the man's skin was stuck to the chair with urine and feces.") And: His girlfriend? (Yep: She "brought him food and soda pop.") And: Why didn't anyone do anything? (There is no law stopping adults from eating as much as they want or sitting in whichever chairs they want.) And: What was wrong? (No one seems to know, yet.) And also: Can I write a story about this guy for my MFA portfolio? (Yes, but please don't make him a metaphor for America, or capitalism, or whatever.)
(The house, by the way, is now being cleaned by seven people.)
:lulz: :vom:
he was America. that is the New Dream.
What strikes me is that this has been posted in High Weirdness when this is completely to be expected.
This will, of course, convince Lay-Z-Boy that now is the time to expand their line of recliners to include potty chairs for adults, with a hatch in the side so a loved one can remove and clean the poop storage compartment. And maybe some sort of dining-table like insert that allows the chair to widen and have cushioned slats inserted to better accommodate the chair's owner as their backside expands . . .
NEW! FUSE-GARD UPHOLSTERING! WITHSTANDS UP TO SIX YEARS* OF SUSTAINED SKIN CONTACT!
ONLY AT YOUR LOCAL WAL*MART!
:spag:
What I want to know is how this person not only had, but maintained a relationship with this woman....
Quote from: Doktor Blight on March 31, 2011, 01:21:53 PM
What I want to know is how this person not only had, but maintained a relationship with this woman....
She likely ENJOYED having someone totally dependent on her, on some sick level. I hope they're looking at getting help for her.
Quote from: Sigmatic on March 31, 2011, 09:01:45 AM
What strikes me is that this has been posted in High Weirdness when this is completely to be expected.
Obesity to this level, yes. But fusing to his chair? That's pretty fucking weird. IMO, anyway.
Hover Cat: if it's a leather chair and he's obese that he can't move cause of obesity, you're gonna get fused. Have you never sat in a leather chair in the summer while wearing short clothes?
Was this not one of the murders in the movie Se7en?
Nope. Leather isn't done too much on anything you're gonna sit on around here. Regularly hits +100* degrees and hot leather is unpleasant. And I don't think most recliners have real leather upholstery.
Also nope. The killer kicked him (or something to that effect) after force feeding him until the point that the kick ruptured organs. Died at his kitchen table. IIRC, anyway.
Quote from: Hover Cat on March 31, 2011, 05:10:43 PM
Quote from: Sigmatic on March 31, 2011, 09:01:45 AM
What strikes me is that this has been posted in High Weirdness when this is completely to be expected.
Obesity to this level, yes. But fusing to his chair? That's pretty fucking weird. IMO, anyway.
The normality you knew is canceled. In other news, La-Z-Boy is changing is name to "Differently-Abled-Boy".
This, uh, isn't the first time this has happened. I've heard about this before--about oh, 5-6 years ago...?
http://www.wftv.com/news/3643877/detail.html ...guess it was 7
*shrug* Seven years ago I was a relatively innocent fifteen year old and very Catholic, so it's new to me.
Quote from: Hover Cat on April 01, 2011, 02:45:48 AM
*shrug* Seven years ago I was a relatively innocent fifteen year old and very Catholic, so it's new to me.
:crankey:
...damned kids...
...I say that with all the love in my heart, HC. ;)
:lulz: uh huh. ;)
...hey, it's a bitter time when I realize I'm FIFTEEN years older than you...
Dear god.
Quote from: Hover Cat on April 01, 2011, 02:45:48 AM
*shrug* Seven years ago I was a relatively innocent fifteen year old and very Catholic, so it's new to me.
I was a corporal when you were BORN. :x
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on April 01, 2011, 05:54:15 AM
Quote from: Hover Cat on April 01, 2011, 02:45:48 AM
*shrug* Seven years ago I was a relatively innocent fifteen year old and very Catholic, so it's new to me.
I was a corporal when you were BORN. :x
Does that mean you were a private second class when I was born?
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on April 01, 2011, 05:54:15 AM
Quote from: Hover Cat on April 01, 2011, 02:45:48 AM
*shrug* Seven years ago I was a relatively innocent fifteen year old and very Catholic, so it's new to me.
I was a corporal when you were BORN. :x
:lulz:
Quote from: Hover Cat on April 01, 2011, 02:45:48 AM
*shrug* Seven years ago I was a relatively innocent fifteen year old and very Catholic, so it's new to me.
We has lots in common. :lol:
Damn, why are all the hot 22 year olds in the US?
Seriously though, is this really surprising? I mean the next logical step from rascal scooters is fusing into your chair and adding wheels to the local Walmart.
:argh!:
Quote from: Rumckle on April 01, 2011, 04:40:06 PM
Damn, why are all the hot 22 year olds in the US?
Seriously though, is this really surprising? I mean the next logical step from rascal scooters is fusing into your chair and adding wheels to the local Walmart.
Wait, you don't have attractive Australian chicks?
Lost lied to me!
Quote from: Rumckle on April 01, 2011, 04:40:06 PM
Damn, why are all the hot 22 year olds in the US?
Seriously though, is this really surprising? I mean the next logical step from rascal scooters is fusing into your chair and adding wheels to the local Walmart.
They're too busy being hot and 22 to afford travel. :lol:
Quote from: Sigmatic on April 01, 2011, 06:29:47 PM
Quote from: Rumckle on April 01, 2011, 04:40:06 PM
Damn, why are all the hot 22 year olds in the US?
Seriously though, is this really surprising? I mean the next logical step from rascal scooters is fusing into your chair and adding wheels to the local Walmart.
They're too busy being hot and 22 to afford travel. :lol:
Pretty much. :lol:
I am embarrassed to be an Ohioan... :oops:
My girlfriend left me the day I told her of my plan. She said we had "grown apart," but I know she really meant "you're fucking crazy." I'd hoped that she'd understand, that she'd see the necessity of my plan, understand how much the city needed someone to stand up and do what was right, but I can't blame her for leaving. If this is a mission I have to undertake alone, I accept that now. I've had plenty of time to come to peace with the idea.
I began training the next day. At first I tried strapping a hiking pack full of bricks and free weights to my back, but the way the weight shifted kept throwing off my balance, and it was no good trying to train myself for what was to come in a way that challenged my balance more than my endurance. No, building my latissimus dorsi, my erector spinae, gradually training all the muscles of my back and shoulders to support the load I was to bear was the first priority. Next I filled the pack with quick-dry cement, but I wasn't yet up to the task of carrying such a burden for any meaningful length of time, and it seemed my training had hit a snag. How was I to prepare for my momentous undertaking if I couldn't find a steady weight that my back could carry for the whole day?
So I settled into my chair at home and thought on the matter, and a crazy idea formed in my head, madder even than the one that had driven my love away from me the week before. Was it possible? I had been putting off the second stage of my preparations, namely creating the shell that would strike terror into the heart of the city's criminals. Could I be sitting atop the very answer to both my problems? A search on the internet provided confirmation that what I in my desperation imagined to be the solution was indeed possible. The only question was that of my own ingenuity and dedication. I had nothing left to lose. I chose the path that destiny had laid at my feet.
I spent the next four days working on the outer casing of the shell. I knew that once it and I were one there would be no more opportunity to see to its construction; even repairs would be nigh impossible. The shell had to last. I coated the back of the chair with layer upon layer of plaster and chicken wire, applying wet on top of dry, and as the shell expanded well beyond the chair's original dimensions I had to pull the chair into the center of my living room. As the shell grew I shaped the spiral that had taken over my mind into its surface, first wide along the outer rim, then ever shrinking as the spiral reached its point at the center of the shell's surface. I don't know that I ate anything for those four days, though the evidence of the carton and a half of Parliaments I went through at the time remained as a pile of cigarette corpses piled high within and around the Three Stooges ashtray on the mantle afterward.
With the shell completed, I arranged the space around my former chair so that I would have everything necessary to the continuance of my life available in easy reach, for I knew I wouldn't be going anywhere for a while, not until I and the shell were one. The hardest part was setting up the septic line to my bathtub. The hose had to wide enough for my fecal matter to travel through, but small enough that I could get it under my posterior without disturbing the contact my back had with the chair (for my skin's constant contact with the fabric over the coming months was key to my transformation). I arranged for a rent-a-maid to visit the house once a week for the purpose of restocking my mini-fridge and ensuring my health was in good order.
Preparations completed, there was only one thing left to do: commit to sit.
The months passed slowly. I permitted myself to watch television and play videogames for what may seem to you a great deal of the day, but I pestered myself to read as well, and not just the fantastic fiction that had inspired me to this great endeavor but also works of true crime and investigative methodology. I studied videos of martial arts masters, and I did what exercising I could to keep myself strong and my body ready to bear the shell once it had become a part of my body in physicality as well as spirit.
Was there pain? I will not lie to you, I wept at the pain when the skin of my back blistered and cracked, but I knew this was a necessary part of the process, and after the second month I knew the process had begun in earnest. Yes, by the fourth month I could rock in the chair and feel the chair move with me, my back and the shell joining in a single slight arc that, though invisible, marked the realization of all I had dreamed.
But still I waited, wanting to be sure, dreading the thought that I might one day stand and find the shell did not follow me, afraid that after all I had endured it might yet not be enough. Eight months I waited, exercising my legs and arms the best I could, praying every day that my skin would fuse the more tightly with the fabric of my chair. Eight months, and then I could be patient no more. I knew that I had to stand. I had to walk again. I had to feel the shell's weight supported by the muscles of my back. I rocked in the chair, feeling the now familiar sensation of the fabric fused to my body, and a grin split my face. Yes, it was time to stand!
But at first my legs betrayed me. I couldn't muster the power necessary to propel my weight and that of the shell forward and up. I screamed, as I knew the city was screaming for its savior, and I threw my weight forward again. If my skin ripped free from the fabric, let it. I was going to stand. I was a man, goddammit, and I was going to stand on my own two feet again if it destroyed everything I'd worked for these past eight months. I stood, and the shell rose with me. It was all I could do not to collapse immediately to my knees in thankful sobs.
Since then I have spent my every waking hour in preparation for the final stage. I am ready at last. Tonight, the scum of this city shall know fear again, and the people shall once more be safe. I am your salvation. I am the Linen Snail.
Oh, wow!
WOW WOW!
Great Scott, man!
Laughing Jude.
That's just.
Sick. And terrible, and reprehensible. It's every sort of wrong, and more. It is a shade of grotesque that I'd previously not conceived of, and more even, a waste of what is a clear talent for writing.
In short, I am a huge, huge fan. :)
Ha, thanks. Writing's what I want to do with my life, but I haven't figured out how to make money at it yet...
Quote from: Eater of Clowns on April 02, 2011, 12:21:44 AM
Laughing Jude.
That's just.
Sick. And terrible, and reprehensible. It's every sort of wrong, and more. It is a shade of grotesque that I'd previously not conceived of, and more even, a waste of what is a clear talent for writing.
In short, I am a huge, huge fan. :)
What he said. :lulz:
:mittens:
that was awesome! :lulz:
Quote from: Laughin Jude on April 02, 2011, 12:34:33 AM
Ha, thanks. Writing's what I want to do with my life, but I haven't figured out how to make money at it yet...
I really want to see your version of a romance novel.
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on April 02, 2011, 10:37:16 PM
Quote from: Laughin Jude on April 02, 2011, 12:34:33 AM
Ha, thanks. Writing's what I want to do with my life, but I haven't figured out how to make money at it yet...
I really want to see your version of a romance novel.
I'm at this very moment working on a short story about a vampire who uses his "Edward System" to feed on teenage girls who are fans of
Twilight, only to have his latest would-be victim turn out to be crazy as fuck and start stalking him. Does that count?
Quote from: Laughin Jude on April 02, 2011, 11:15:46 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on April 02, 2011, 10:37:16 PM
Quote from: Laughin Jude on April 02, 2011, 12:34:33 AM
Ha, thanks. Writing's what I want to do with my life, but I haven't figured out how to make money at it yet...
I really want to see your version of a romance novel.
I'm at this very moment working on a short story about a vampire who uses his "Edward System" to feed on teenage girls who are fans of Twilight, only to have his latest would-be victim turn out to be crazy as fuck and start stalking him. Does that count?
WUT??? :lulz:
Quote from: Laughin Jude on April 02, 2011, 11:15:46 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on April 02, 2011, 10:37:16 PM
Quote from: Laughin Jude on April 02, 2011, 12:34:33 AM
Ha, thanks. Writing's what I want to do with my life, but I haven't figured out how to make money at it yet...
I really want to see your version of a romance novel.
I'm at this very moment working on a short story about a vampire who uses his "Edward System" to feed on teenage girls who are fans of Twilight, only to have his latest would-be victim turn out to be crazy as fuck and start stalking him. Does that count?
HAHAHAH. Vampire Pickup Artist with the "Edward System". HILARIOUS.
Quote from: Laughin Jude on April 02, 2011, 11:15:46 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on April 02, 2011, 10:37:16 PM
Quote from: Laughin Jude on April 02, 2011, 12:34:33 AM
Ha, thanks. Writing's what I want to do with my life, but I haven't figured out how to make money at it yet...
I really want to see your version of a romance novel.
I'm at this very moment working on a short story about a vampire who uses his "Edward System" to feed on teenage girls who are fans of Twilight, only to have his latest would-be victim turn out to be crazy as fuck and start stalking him. Does that count?
That sounds AWESOME.
Quote from: Laughin Jude on April 02, 2011, 11:15:46 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on April 02, 2011, 10:37:16 PM
Quote from: Laughin Jude on April 02, 2011, 12:34:33 AM
Ha, thanks. Writing's what I want to do with my life, but I haven't figured out how to make money at it yet...
I really want to see your version of a romance novel.
I'm at this very moment working on a short story about a vampire who uses his "Edward System" to feed on teenage girls who are fans of Twilight, only to have his latest would-be victim turn out to be crazy as fuck and start stalking him. Does that count?
:mittens: WTF, you are awesome!
You know what, I think i might like this guy. :lulz:
Aw, what the hell since I totally derailed this thread anyway: The Edward System (http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php?topic=28802.0)
The third part's where the crazy starts coming out. I'll get on finishing the rest in the next few days.
Don't worry about derailing, shit happens. If people mind, they'll bitch at ya, and nobody's bitching.
That was awesome. :)
Quote from: Luna on April 03, 2011, 11:40:41 AM
Don't worry about derailing, shit happens. If people mind, they'll bitch at ya, and nobody's bitching.
That was awesome. :)
Good advice, Luna! And now I'm off to check out this new goodness of "The Edward System." ...after work, though.