Big-Boned Girls & Other Lies: That’s No Way To Treat A Fat Person

First, never ever say to a fat person, at least not any fat females: “You just have big bones!”

First of all, I do NOT have big bones. I have average bones with fat on them. There are three types of bone sizes: small, medium (average) and big ( I am medium-boned. I did the measuring thing, six times. My bones are medium/average. Probably the only thing average about me, too!

Second of all, it’s rude, no matter how you mean it! Especially for you, guys. When you tell a woman that we’re fine because we have big bones, it’s sort of like us saying to you, “It’s all right for you to have that one-inch penis.”

It’s rude, unkind, and inaccurate!

Statistically speaking, most women are small or medium-boned; just as most men have a four-to-six inch penis (on average).

Subway riders: Do not make noises [i.e. sighing in disgust] when YOU choose to squeeze beside us fat girls on the half-inch of bench space! Your noises, hmmms and sighs will NOT make us get up, move or get skinnier. Neither will pushing your skinny ass further into seat and attempting to push our fat thighs against the metal bars of the subway! It just makes us want to sit on you, push back or find a pin and stab you with it [trust me, I’ve carried safety pins with me for just such a job, if someone pisses me off

Buck up! You’re skinny, in better shape! You fucking stand up for the half hour ride to Manhattan! You can do it. Besides, my weight gain is based, mostly, on an injury. As the juveniles on Jerry Springer like to say, “You don’t know me!”

Really, you don’t. You can assume my fat is from Burger King or truck loads of Dr. Pepper. Well, I haven’t eaten at Burger King for a good amount of years. As for Dr. Pepper, one can every few days hardly make for 90 lbs. weight gain! Nevertheless, my broken ribs in 2003, when I couldn’t move without excruciating pain did cause a good 50 lb. weight gain over the course of that healing. The car crash where I sustained the broken ribs also caused severe pain in my spine, which, to this day, manifests itself if I stand for more than ten minutes. Pain so bad, that once it starts, I will spend up to 48 hours with no sleep, no relief, unless I take Tylenol 3 or heavier pain medications.

I do not have the insurance to afford a spine specialist. You don’t know me. So, do not assume, all my weight is from laziness. It’s from pain, injuries and lack of finances to pay for a Personal Trainer, Nutritionist or the higher quality foods at the store.

Your rude noises, comments or looks certainly won’t make me want to exercise more. I didn’t get fat in one day, nor will I get skinny or begin my workout today, either . . .just to please your judging eyes!

No, I don’t enjoy being fat and although I got here, there are factors you do not know. I gained the first of the weight from medication that saved my life. I gained 70 lbs. in one year from medication alone.

Thus, to judge me as just a glutton who ate myself into obesity is completely off-base! I took medication so I wouldn’t suffer depression and panic. Then, after losing 30 lbs. on Weight Watchers, I was in the car crash. My weight went back up.

Age: 18

Because my weight gain  came at the age of 33-years-old; I am still unable to see myself as I am – FAT.  I understand exactly what Kirstie Alley felt like in ‘Fat Actress”. I’m just  not me at this weight. I cannot afford four to six hours of training a day with a professional trainer [i.e. Biggest Loser].

And my third pet peeve:
You who will say, “No, you’re not fat. You’re perfect the way you are! You are  so beautiful!”

  • One: Don’t believe you.
  • Two: No, I am fat. You  see it, you know it. Fat is fat. Don’t try to say something nice. Say nothing, that’s better.
  • Three: I may be  beautiful, fat or thin. But, listen, high blood pressure, high cholesterol and  high blood sugar is anything but beautiful! Thus, I am not perfect the way I  am. Stop trying to convince me different. It won’t work anyway. It just pisses  me off more.

If you want to know  what to say when and if I say “I have to lose weight.”  Try these encouraging words:

  • “Do you? Are you thinking of a program?”
  • “How much do you want  to lose?”

When and if we give you  a number, the best answer is…another question, sincerely:

“Do you need to lose  that much?” And then follow with the first question, “Are you thinking of a program?”

Another great answer, if you must speak: “If you need help with anything, let me know.”

And finally: Skinny people do NOT say, in front of us fat girls, “Oh God, I’m getting so fat!” or “I need to lose weight, I’m so fat!” or anything about fat!

You’re skinny, you know it! So, stop trying to compliment yourself when you’re with us.

Here’s how to remember it, for you skinny and trim girls: If the person you’re with is, or around, or over 200 lbs. or overweight, in general [based on current charts for her age/height, etc.]. DO NOT TALK ABOUT YOUR WEIGHT!

If you are thinner than the person you’re with: DO NOT MENTION OR TALK ABOUT WEIGHT!

It’s rude, painful and makes us fat people go out to McDonald’s for a large fries and a Quarter Pounder! Besides you’re trying to compare us to you. That’s how we see it!

You truly want to help us? Shut up until we ask you for help. Make no comments, at least, not about weight – yours or mine or other people!

1999: 200lbs

Really, I don’t want to hear about how you went from size 4 to 6! Try this on for size: 14 to 16 to 18.

Do you want to compete?
Okay, you win! You’re skinnier . . . thus, shut up about me and my body!

Finally, if you must speak up, then, you must also be willing to 1) buy me a membership to Curves (for one year or more), 2) Find and pay for me to have a Personal Trainer, specializing in back injuries and 3) Support me for a year so I can pursue weight loss for one full year, full-time. Investment: $50,000.

If you have a product, of course, I’d be glad to be your spokesperson for the investment for the year!

DELUSIONS: Angels, Punks & Raging Queens Long Forgotten

Angels, Punks & Raging Queens


By Angela Theresa Egic

(my original title)

A few weeks ago, someone I used to call a friend, posted in a public forum that I, Angela TheresaCurry’s AngelCollins-Egic, am just “not that memorable”; also, I apparentlylack charismato boot.

Since I originally penned this article (last week) — a little glitch in my life [an abnormal mammogram and upcoming needle biopsy to see if its benign or malignant] has caused me to think about memory, being remembered, etc. Two and a half years shy of my half-century mark, I’m having the longevity conversation with myself . So, as I chronicle my life, up to now and hopefully well into the next fifty or so years.

The person who said this does need a little introduction, because to most of you, he’s not that memorable, I would think. To most of my readers, he’s unknown, in fact:

 He was born Andrew Martin Arnold but solely uses the stage name of Andrew Martin now. It suits him well.


When we met, back in 1985…I thought he was a 17-year-old girl. Andrew would tell you the same; that he looked like a 17-year-old girl.

For a few of those youthful years, Andrew did start wearing women’s clothing, taking my hand-me-downs, in fact; and marketed his transvestite image. He utilized my talents and Susie “Squeaky” Schwartzberg’s talent to do two cabaret acts at a venue called Jason’s Park Royal. The first one titled: THE LADY AND HIS MUSIC.

He was Miss Andrew, in every sense of the word. A talented, off-the-wall and interesting young gay man.

To some degree, he and I were as close as any two friends could be. Andrew and I met at an 8th Street pizza joint called Bennie’s [worst pizza ever – yet we ate a slice every week]. The day I walked in there, across the street from 8thStreet Playhouse in NYC; on my way to see the NY showing of ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW: I met these two girls, [I thought]; when the very thin, flat-chested one told me her name was “Andrew”. I was a little taken aback. The shorter one, with a tomboyish charm [yet, was obviously female] was “Barbara”.

Really, they didn’t even look related. Nevertheless, they were: fraternal twins.

Barbara Arnold
 It didn’t take long to figure out that both Andrew and Barbara were talented, intelligent teens. In fact, wise beyond their years! I instantly adored them. Through them, I met some great people, many of whom are still friends today; including Barbara and Andrew. Except, the friendship with Andrew has ended a few times and we are, as of July 2011, not on good terms . . . which is what I’m writing about.

In 1985, though, Andrew, Barbara and I, and a few others became a gang of misfits, at a place where us misfits fit in. There was the “8th Street Gang [Cast]” and “us”. “Us” who wanted to be in the 8th Street cast—all of us talented enough, yet not popular enough – to Sal Piro, at least. Being that Sal is the President of the Official RHPS Fan Club and cast the floorshow (now called shadowcasts) back then. We were still misfits.

We showed up every week, though, at 8th Street Playhouse – Miss Andrew, Barbara Arnold, Susie “Squeaky” Schwartzberg, Phil Dejean, Shawn Rozsa, Mad Man Mike, Andy Grondahl, Hawkeye, A.J. and many more. Since Sal seemed to have blacklisted quite a few of us from being in the popular 8th Street cast…I found us another way!

I moved to Brooklyn and heard about a midnight showing of RHPS on Saturday midnight. When I heard the floorshow [shadowcast] was thrown out, I grabbed my mis-fitted friends and swooped in to have our own show. I wanted to have the best cast! A cast that would have people saying we were “as good as the 8th Street cast” or “better than”!

I just wanted Sal to see how talented we were and have him, finally, offer us a role in the big show in Manhattan; or acknowledge us, at the very least.

We put the show together, quickly. I had every intention of playing ‘Magenta’; no one wanted to play ‘Frank N. Furter’, oddly.  Inspired by an 8th Street idol of mine, Julie Calabrese, I molded myself into ‘Frank N. Furter’. Oh yes, and my other idol, Dori Hartley. [She, Dori, had moved on with her life before I had arrived in New York, though].

Our (really, my) cast, The Low Down Cheap Little Punks, at Brooklyn’s Marboro Theater, became known as one the best casts in the East coast – comparable to Manhattan’s 8th Street Playhouse! At least, as far as I was concerned! Sal Piro eventually took most of my cast into his cast – so, that tells you something. Some of the top cast members of Sal’s 8th Street group, in 1986, got their start in MY CAST!

As time went on, around 1987, when I began working in a talent agency – we represented Sal Piro – Sal and I started a professional, respectful friendship: I’ve attended many Rocky Horror conventions where Sal and I had some great conversations. My favorite was a Las Vegas convention, in the 90s, when Sal introduced me as “one of the most dedicated” fans of RHPS.

Sal also put me in his 2nd RHPS book Creatures of the Night II;invited me to be part of the first television showing of RHPS at FX Studios [I went as Frank N. Furter, of course]; and Sal asked me take his RHPS items to an Albany, NY convention when he couldn’t attend.

In the early years, I was at every convention from the 10th Anniversary (Beacon Theater) – and where my original costume – “Curry’s Angel” brought me Good Morning America and newspaper reporters and photographer’s interviewing me about “who” I was.

Found out, later, one of the friends’ buzzing about me told the reporters that my real name was Angela Curry . . . and that I was Tim Curry’s real-life niece!!!

I hadn’t even met Tim Curry, at that point!

Nevertheless, the next morning, as my interview aired, millions of viewers thought I was, indeed, Tim Curry’s niece as the name ANGELA CURRY was emblazoned at the bottom part of the screen. Coincidentally, when I finally did met TC, it would be revealed how much I resembled his real-life niece. I believe she, Tim Curry’s real-life niece (he has three); one resembles me [I’m older, I believe]; she, my doppleganger Curry niece, has aged much better than me, though.

About three weeks ago – on the Facebook 8th Street Playhouse page – to be told by Miss Andrew that I am “not that memorable” and that I lack “charisma”, really got up my crawl!

We must also remember, after 1987, Andrew disappeared from the RHPS fan base and refused to be part of any of our conventions, get-togethers, etc. until about 2008 or 2009.

In short, while I was involved, actively from 1983 (AZ) to 1984-1987 (NY) and then from 1988-now at conventions, another stint as ‘Frank N. Furter’ in Arizona in the 90s, made a “rock-u-mentary (1990) w/the AZ group, talked to Tim Curry and had many conversations with Sal Piro, Patricia Quinn and Richard O’Brien and too many cast(s) – all the way to England – and had a RHPS newsletter – fans from as far as Italy and France writing me fan mail . . . Really?! Not memorable? No charisma? Me?

Are you talking to me, Andrew? Unmemorable, little ole me?

Andrew claims “more people” remember him from those days. I might agree with him about that, of course. My argument is NOT the numbers; it’s the words about a personality – no charisma, not very memorable. Are those words you say to a friend? A friend so instrumental in so many memories, my own and in his, and many others!

There are people from “those days” who approach me, remember me, actually . . . whom I cannot, for the life of me, remember at all. BUT, friend or foe, I would never be so rude to say to them:  “you’re not very memorable” or “you must’ve lacked charisma”.

Hell, for all I know, they are very memorable and have tons of charisma – I just wasn’t lucky enough to see it and or get to know this great person at the time. My loss.

Which was my point with Andrew Martin, supposedly my friend … he went on to remind me and the group how “everyone remembers him” and “hardly anyone” remembers me. A snob! An ego-maniac.

A very insecure person, envious of my involvement and part of this history. Andrew missed the years between 1987-2007, when we had reunion’s, conventions and were interviewed by German, French and British TV shows and even American specials.

After I blocked him on Facebook – had unfriended him months ago when he posted some rude, jealous and snobby remark on my wall – I actually just feel sorry for him. He is, insecure. He is dysfunctional much more than most of us. I claim to have empathy.

Cabaret>>Click Here

Of course, without proper, professional diagnosis, I can say, from my experience (in life) – I find Andrew shows signs of classic Narcissist Personality Disorder. I had another friend with a professional diagnosis of the disorder – thus, I see the similar signs in Andrew.

This means, I really should be empathetic. Yet, I, too, have my ego and insecurities, as well. I guess we’re all a bit narcissist in the theatre business!

A recent scare, which I’m still dealing with calmly, made me think about . . . well, being remembered, etc. and how we are remembered.

I have no fear of death, itself, yet I don’t want to do it right now. I want to see one hundred years on this earth, I mean, if I’m capable and not crippled up, etc. Yet, as I have had friends pass on – far too many for someone my age – it makes me think about who will remember me? Who will share these memories with me, of me and our times in the 1980s?

with Susie "Squeaky"

If Andrew is right, and I’m not that memorable or charismatic — me being there was all, I don’t know, an illusion.

I thought I finally did fit in. I had found my people – the different, the misfits, the unusual – and now, maybe I am still an alien, the kid easiest to bully, the ugly one, the forgettable one.

Sure, I know it’s not true, really.

Andrew is trying to hurt me to make himself feel better – for his insecurities – yet, he succeeded. As really, no one even stood up for me!

I may understand why, though – Andrew will argue, filibuster – and would’ve pestered anyone who dares speak up for me. Because I spoke up for me and he went on and on until I ended it by blocking him! It just would’ve soothed my ego (of course, not my authentic self as “ego” is the false self) if someone had spoken up for me.

I guess we can say Rocky Horror Picture Show also attracts insecure people all around! Yikes!

P.S. I have to mention tarot cards. Why? Because it’s getting me more traffic than any other search!!! LOL! Over 400 people per week search tarot cards. And, oh yeah, I do tarot card, Archangel Michael Oracle Card & Archangel Oracle Card readings! Email me: “Tarot Readings”– [Tarot Card Reading: $15.00 Full/In-Depth Reading]

Day Ninety (90): Wicked Again!

Day Ninety (90): Saturday, May 29th, 2010

90) Asian Shamans Touch The Spirit World

The ancient peoples of Tibet, Siberia, Laos, and elsewhere practiced shamanism, often within the context of their particular cultural belief system. As intermediaries between the world of matter and spirit, shamans were able to control malevolent spirits by accessing the spirit world, effect healings, and interpret dreams. Their special knowledge of the workings of the unseen world (alignment, surely, with the Law of Attraction) empowered them to deal with the invisible spirits or forces of misfortune that might be hurting those in their village and bring out the manifestation of peace, health, and positive change for the greater good.

Big day for my “little sister”, Lori and I . . .

We both still felt a bit queasy, but it was easing. And since her visit would only be these few days — we needed to accomplish a lot of fun for the day.

Lori was really nervous about “getting on another train” — meaning the subway. I knew, once she got used to it, it would be fine.

I also had decided, for our fun day . . . I’d take Lori to the Rocky Horror Picture Show! LOL!

First, though, a day in Manhattan (New York City). Our first order of business … seeing some famous sights. I decided Central Park was the place to be his lovely weekend.

Lori and I walked around Central Park . . . me taking pictures, Lori posing.

Lori took a few of me, too. She’s a good photographer!!!

We came upon many park performers from jugglers to a fairy giving handfuls of fairy dust. We enjoyed a show of hip hop dancers and I videotaped with my camera, as well.

Erica met us at Columbus Circle . . . and after a break at the Time Warner Center. We headed to the Gershwin Theatre to get in line for the “Wicked Lottery”. Erica, Lori and I were first and when they opened the door at 5:30pm we got the first three papers to enter.

Half an hour later, as they pulled out the lucky name of those who won the front row seats . . . I heard, at the last-minute, Erica’s name!!! Erica wasn’t going to see the show; thus, I gave her our money and she purchased the two front row seats for Lori and I.

Tickets in hand for the 8:00 pm show . . . Lori & I walked Erica to the subway and made our goodbyes. We went to dinner and then to the greatest show ever!!!

It was my 7th time seeing the show and I knew Lori would love it.

Somewhere in this time, Michael Bordwell, my friend from theatre, decided he and his friend, would meet us at the Chelsea Cinema’s tonight for Rocky Horror Picture Show. Since that was planned, I informed Lori, no matter how tired we are . . .we were going to see the midnight film.

Wicked lets out rather late . . . and, of course, we both loved it. We headed quickly to 23rd Street to meet with Mike and Andi for the midnight movie, The Rocky Horror Picture Show!

Love, Light & Laughter,

Angela Theresa



Day Sixty-Five (65): The Truth and NYC

Day Sixty-Five (65): Tuesday, May 4th, 2010

65) What Hill’s Detractors Said

In his books, Hill wrote about his belief in the power of autosuggestion as a law of nature and suggested that our thoughts are like vibrations in the ether that are either negatively or positively charged by our emotions. The subconscious mind, according to Hill, must be influenced by emotionally charged thought mixed with faith if such thought is to bear results. Detractors believed that Hill’s thinking was flawed. They asserted that it was foolhardy to believe desire could turn into its tangible equivalent. Further, they argued that it is impossible to create something out of nothing.

Today began, as usual, my work week (NYC Tour Guide w/City Sights). Generally, I’m fine the first day of the work week. It’s just went I get there with little or no breaks, I get irritated.

The exception was, today was really good . . . good tips and there was enough time to go to the bathroom; well, they let me go between tours.

After my third tour, and I was off to go home . . . one of my bosses, there, told me a story and offended me terribly:

I am not easily offended . . .

He said a woman tourist got off my bus and complained that “the tour guide said the Empire State Building was built in the 1980s in 20 days!”

The tourist went on to explain she loves New York, but the tour guide was bad to give such false information. I calmly said, “Well, it wasn’t me . . . because, my tour is scripted, really. I ALWAYS talk about the 13 months it took to build the Empire State Building in 1930/1931.

My boss kept insisting she was talking about me. I became very defensive because, as I stated,  I DO NOT CHANGE MY SCRIPT!

Because I was told this woman was going to complain to the company about me. I had to defend myself because I didn’t make any mistakes! I went up to the office and talked to Gwen, in the City Sights office. Then, I went to talk to Troop, at the site, and told him my truth.

Troop and another tour guide or two . . . said to not worry about it. That they were just pushing my buttons. I realized, on my way back, that the tourist was probably NOT listening.

Here is my script (as we turn onto 34th Street from 8th Avenue, going East):

Now, you are seeing the tallest building in New York since the World Trade Center tragedy. The Empire State Building, which was built in 1930 to 1931. It took 13 months to complete; which, as far as buildings go is very quick.

It was the Great Depression and many men were out of work. They hired over 4000 men to complete the steel structured building. It took 13 short months, one year and one month.

Later on, as we get closer to the building:

In the 1980s (the only mention I make about that era) a man tried to commit suicide from the Empire State Building. It was a particularly windy day and he was blown back to another balcony unharmed. He had a new lease on life as he was taken to the Bellevue Mental Hospital.

We turn the corner on 5th Avenue and go into another area: Little Korea (at this point, I’ve talked a lot about Great Depression and how the Empire State Building was called the Empty State Bldg“):

Over to the right you a sign reading: I heart NY t-shirts — 10 for $10.00. They will last you 10 days. If you wash them carefully, they might last 20 days!

Thus, apparently, if the tourist was talking about me . . . she only listened to my tour when I mentioned the attempted suicide, and then stopped listening. Then, she listened AGAIN when I was talking about t-shirts and had long stopped talking about the Empire State Building.

Remember: She claimed the Tour Guide said “the Empire State Building was built in the 1980s and it took 20 days.”

My note to tourists: LISTEN TO THE WHOLE TOUR!

I have seen tourists talking on the cell phone, sleeping and then later, complaining to me, what I didn’t mention or did mention. Only because they are NOT paying attention!!!

Love, Light & Laughter,

Angela Theresa