While a beauty pageant is hardly a sport, it is indeed a competition and every so often a pageant comes along that deserves some extra attention. For instance, Angela Scognamiglio bested a field of portly princesses on Saturday to become the new Miss Chubby. Angela weighed in for the contest at 170 kg, which translates to approximately 340 pounds if my international Tons-of-Funometer is correct. When hearing of her conquest, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers offered Angela a six-year deal.

The 20-year old pageant program has one qualifying rule – women must weigh more than 200 pounds. Coincidentally, I shared this same rule for one very shameful semester of college. Angela said she felt like she “won the lottery” by being crowned Miss Chubby, while her proud father declared, “You see-a my bambina? You-a want-a to marry her-a now, yes? Please?”

Breathe heavily while trying to tell us the story, Associated Foreign Press:

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Raiders quarterback JaMarcus Russell does his job much like you do yours–he’s easily distracted, eats too much, and has terrific taste in online sports literature. Yeah, I’m sure that JaMarcus reads With Leather. It’s like Ebony for fat people. Anyway…

According to a league source with knowledge of the situation in Oakland, the hefty quarterback has beefed up to 300 pounds.

We’re also told that the former LSU star isn’t getting good advice from his family.

“It’s a drag on the kid and they encourage his poor lifestyle,” an NFL source told National Football Post.

Russell was the No. 1 overall pick by the Raiders in 2007, and to call him a bust seems generous. One can only expect him to get even fatter when he sits on the bench behind Jason Campbell this fall. I saw a fat guy get on an airplane once, and I felt really bad for him trying to squeeze into one of these tiny window seats. At least…I did until the plane took off and could only fly around in circles. No mini-pretzels for you, sir.

This is Donna Simpson, and she is fat. In fact, she’s efforting to become the heaviest woman ever. She already weighs somewhere around six bills, but she’s still engorging in cake, sushi and donuts to make a push for history. And you, dear reader, can have a front-row seat for all the calorie packing.

She runs her own website where people pay to watch her eat, or see her wash her huge body.
The cash helps fund the family’s $750 a week food shop, which Miss Simpson carries out in her mobility scooter.

That website’s subscribers reportedly earn her a monthly income of £2,000 a month ($3033 US). And to think that I’ve been typing on this site like a schlep.

“I’d love to be 1,000lb,” she said. “It might be hard though. Running after my daughter keeps my weight down.” –Telegraph (UK)

Yeah, exercise is a real bitch like that. I hope that this becomes a movie, just so we can enjoy a five-minute eating montage. And I want Simon Pegg to play Donna while wearing a fat suit. It’ll be like “Big Momma’s House,” but for white people. And actually funny. Thanks to Jack for the heads-up.>

ASYLUM POLL: Would you like to see Donna Simpson reach 1,000 pounds? Be honest…

I don’t care who you are or how much you hate cruelty to other people or how many trees you hugged last week. If a fat guy takes a running start of the end of a dock, YOU ARE WATCHING. And this fellow, with whom I’m unfamiliar, decides to indulge his friends and, thanks to the power of technology: the world. But did we mention that this is in the dead of winter and that the lake might be…frozen?

Oh. They mentioned the frozen part in the headline. Thanks for nothing, College Humor.

Here’s an enterprising young lady who, despite the articulate and clever taunts from the crowded bar, decided to climb onto a mechanical bull for a ride. And I’d hate to ruin the ending for you, but this is the internet. You know how it ends. This is like a romantic comedy for guys: it’s cheesy, poorly conceived, and predictable, but still awesome. Okay, so it’s nothing like a romantic comedy. Thanks, Pavun.

I get a fair amount of hate mail.  Well, not so much hate mail as indignant mail.  "What's your problem with the South/St. Louis/Ohio/hookers?" they all say. (Note: I never get indignant mail from hipsters. It would require caring about something.)  The truth is, I've got nothing against any of those places or people.  I only really like to make fun of people who embrace their stereotype, thus reinforcing everyone's notion that a stereotype is the proper lens for viewing other people.

What I'm trying to say is that this pasty little Midwestern piglet at a Colts game disgusts me.  God, even his wrists are fat.  I can only hope heart disease outpaces medical technology in the coming years.

[Kissing Suzy Kolber]