People like you make me sick. First it's whine, whine, whine, my ass is too big and then next week it's going to be whine, whine, whine stop spanking me. I must say, you should get your priorities straight before you start coming to me for help. However, since you insist on wasting my time, and since I am here with all the answers, I suppose we will have to examine your problem in greater detail.

First, you must realize that a large ass might not necessarily be such a bad thing. Imagine you are a web site developer. And imagine that you are perfectly expendable for, as we all know, web site construction is now a commodity business and anyone with a trained monkey and half an ear can whip together a little of the "HTML" that the kids are doing these days. Now just imagine that management treats you like the God-less little turn that you are. Now look down at the chair that you are sitting in. It is as if they took the flattest, hardest, scratchiest piece of wood in the lumber yard, slapped some legs onto it, and called it a chair. Cushions? You're lucky they got rid of all the termites first. So just imagine now that you've packed in a couple of more Ho-Hos at lunch yesterday. And imagine that, as the story goes, they went straight to your ass. Now imagine the thrill you will get when you sit your bulbous behind down on that seat. Like sitting on a large pillow of fat! Which is exactly what you are doing.

If this is not satisfactory though, I can only say that you should invest in a pair of in-line skates and from this day hence use them for all of your travel needs. Unlike the automobile, foul beast that it is, in-line skates are sleek and elegant and require you to do all of the work to get yourself from point A, which is your front door, to point B, which is the IHOP where you eat all of your meals. After a hearty breakfast (anytime!) of three eggs and bacon, with a side order of home fries (and a milk shake to wash it all down), you strap on your skates for the long (three block) roll home. As you cross the first intersection, a motorist runs you over, because you forgot to use the universal hand gesture of "Get the fuck out of my way I'm skating here." You spend the next six months of your life in traction being fed through a tube. When you are done, there is not an ounce of fat left on your body and your legs have atrophied to appear more like stalks of asparagus than human appendages. Congratulations. You no longer have an ass.