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I’m a nearly fifty-year-old overweight depressed woman who, very literally, can’t get laid and… stop the presses… a good-looking young tv star doesn’t want to fuck me.

I don’t know where to take this. I tried writing a couple of people privately yesterday, but I haven’t gotten any replies. I put a post up on the depression subreddit, but the only reply I got made me feel worse. I know the internet is a rough place for anyone who is not on the top of their social hierarchy.

Anyway, I don’t know what I’m saying, really. I read some of Trevor Noah’s tweets about fat women and they made me feel really bad. Its been about twenty-four hours now and I haven’t been able to shake the bad feeling. Somehow, it’s really making me feel awful. The fact that all these people are defending him makes me feel worse.

I can’t help thinking about what I was saying the other day about stories. One of the things people always say about liberals is that they hate the United States and that they hate most Americans. The Daily Show is generally associated with liberals. Now, they’re going to have a good-looking rich foreigner telling jokes about stupid, fat Americans as the host? Thanks, Daily Show, for making the U.S. even more conservative. Really, I have to ask liberals if they have any fucking sense at all about how they sound to other people?

I’ve never liked the punching up/punching down phrasing because, as I’ve said before, it’s not so clear who is up and who is down. However, one thing is clear, Trevor Noah is “up.” There aren’t too many directions in which he can punch without punching down. He makes fun of atheists. He makes fun of women. He makes fun of gays. He makes fun of Jews. His humor reminds me of the popular good-looking kid in middle school who makes fun of all the freaks, nerds and the kids that can’t afford the latest sneakers.

I don’t know. I’m not going to do anything stupid right now. Although the fact that the last time I got laid the guy was drunk keeps circling around and around my head. Of course, he was a fifty-something overweight guy from England. We actually got together a second time, and I think it was my fault there wasn’t a third. It was probably my turn to text. I’m not good about texting. I was ambivalent about him anyway. So, I’m probably not really that desperate. Still, the joke cut a little too close to home. Yeah, when you’re overweight fewer men are interested in you. Thanks, Trevor. You’re so fucking funny.

I’ve been crying intermittently ever since I read about him. I’m not being the PC police. This isn’t manufactured outrage. It is genuine, and it isn’t outrage. It’s shame, embarrassment, depression, sadness, isolation, loneliness and sexual frustration.