🍗 Deathfat Anna o' Brien / Glitter + Lazers / GlitterandLazers - Fat, drunk, consoomer attention whore who would rather eat and drink herself to death than endure a single negative emotion

[Brussels Sprout]

cut my hair, maul my face, but please don’t give me cankles.

This would at least make a good custom title or random txt. Its the only contribution her book could make to the world.

 

[HamFan]

Raised 1700 or 1800 for charity with that bag thing and she matched it, but shows no proof. Forgot to tell anyone then she got this awesome $218 bag and $38 dangly charm for a total of $256 from the company.

Also, enjoy her eating a sloppy joe:
167964030_954825515324926_6870838898683390785_n.mp4

Anna really thinks it's funny when she acts like a slob, but a) that "joke" never really works, and b) it only kind of works on girls you don't expect to be a slob. Not 500 lb losers.

 

[dropthesoap]

That is one industrial grade YIKES

Maybe the girl talked about the braphog to her friend...maybe not. Could've been anything. But even Ray Charles and Stevie Wonder can see that this bitch is creepy, clingy, needy, and most of all, EXHAUSTING. What a fucking freak! You'd think someone would've told her that acting like this and showing her desperation are extremely off putting to anyone--not just popular girls.

God...(shakes head)...YIKES...

No they just told her she’s cute and quirky and that’s why we have the Anna of today.

 

[Barbarella]

Wow, there is a lot to dissect in those delectable morsels of her book @GenociderSyo shared, and I agree with all the things others have said about her being exhausting. That story about baring her soul to a girl in school she didn’t even know was some “ish” as Anna would say. She sees it as being vulnerable to make a friend, then being rejected, but everybody else sees it as manipulating somebody into feeling sorry for her to gain popularity. Glad that girl saw it for what it was.

What struck me about Anna and how absolutely self-centered she is was this section:

"It was after a particularly bad day that my best friend and roommate, Tracie, tried to discuss the cleanliness of our apartment. The current state was a war zone of random food wrappers and neon green fur scraps left from the alien characters I was sewing for my advertising final. We have all been there. That lovely point where life becomes so challenging and overwhelming that your day-to-day becomes an act of survival. “I know you’re stressed, but you need to clean this up,” Tracie said in a bizarre tone, a mix of kindness and annoyance. It was then that the ticking time bomb of stress exploded inside me. I screamed. I whined. I stomped off to my room like a petulant child. It was a miracle I didn’t slam the door."

Anna says we’ve all been there, when she really means only she has been there. Her roommate Tracie couldn’t possibly have been at the end of her rope. Her life couldn’t have felt like she was barely surviving, and every day had to come home to a filthy mess of food wrappers and Anna’s craft project scraps. No refuge at home for her. Only Anna can feel bad and if you ask her to do something perfectly normal, like cleaning food from a shared space, she’s going to throw an immense temper tantrum and be mad you don’t understand how hard life is for her-without a thought how it might be for anybody else.

It’s interesting, reading all this together. I have a much clearer picture of Anna now, and of course, it’s not a better picture. I understand why she can’t keep people around. She has a heightened sense of her self-worth in comparison with others, and has no understanding of how obnoxious, self-centered and tiring she is. And that’s before you get to the fat, which adds a whole layer of extra problems. She never thinks of others, she’s bought her own hype. I thought she was a LOLcow before, but now I feel like she’s right alongside the worst of them.

So many obvious lies in this book too, but she leaves enough breadcrumbs so they are easy to spot.

Just make sure you never become of of the 5 people she tests a day, to, of course, stay close and not use others to unload on.

Plus, she’s a terrible writer. She didn’t even bother to hire an editor? Of course not, she knows it all.

 

[Gramlol]

Anna really thinks it's funny when she acts like a slob, but a) that "joke" never really works, and b) it only kind of works on girls you don't expect to be a slob. Not 500 lb losers.

Her getting out of breath while talking the few lines during the clip is also a big yikes

 

[Burn Book]

"When I took my very first corporate job, I had trouble transitioning from “cool co-ed Anna” to formal, full suit-wearing “Ms. O’Brien.” I treated my cubicle much like one would treat their fifth-grade locker: I covered the walls in Teen Beat posters of JTT. Yes, this was ten years after JTT’s star had peaked. I painted my nails at my desk, put googly eyes on the office plants, and listened to my music out loud for all to hear. I even went so far as to come in one weekend and give my cube a Trading Spaces makeover, complete with hanging lanterns and a tapestry pinned up like wallpaper. I thought I was being whimsical and funny. What I was doing was committing career suicide. I remember when HR called me into the office to talk about these cubicle antics. I had anticipated good news—maybe even a promotion. I had made so much effort to liven up our humdrum office floor, and I expected them to be grateful. I was wrong. The office found me annoying, distracting, and unfocused. Gulp. They didn’t love me, they hated me. I was distraught.

I can't believe she actually did that AND was surprised everybody hated it. Imagine working with somebody who loudly listens to music at their desk (!) and very obviously spends all the time trying to show people how quirky they are. Getting any work done in that office couldn't have been easy.
I can't believe she's actually admitting to being so annoying and clueless, either. I feel like nowadays she would pretend everybody loved it.

 

[OttoWest]

(Yea...um ivy league college is gonna let that happen? Also, she got GED she didn't finish high school.)

I think she’s referring to BYU.

The whole exception committee bit is wild and I doubt her plea alone was what got her in— being a legacy and a bunch of cash is what secured her a space. For other kids with shit grades and a GED not funded by bank of dad, they wouldn’t get the shot that Anna got; they’d be doing two years of community college hoping for a transfer. They would actually have to work to get into a good school where as Anna whines about being exceptional and how mean girls made her drop out or whatever.

 

[Morbo]

I saw the Amanda story more like an early indicator of her ignorance of the concept of personal boundaries, which remains to this day.

Whether she has a mental illness or a personality disorder or both, it's yet another reason why she should never be a parent. Plenty of people who would like to have kids self-select out of parenthood because of their shitty genetics and she should do the same.

 

[MetalParakeet]

"My high school was no exception. Our high school prophetess of popularity was Amanda Scott. (That’s not her real name, because I’m a nice person.) I wanted Amanda to like me so badly. I thought maybe if she knew all the hard things I was dealing with at home that she would befriend me or at least be kinder to me. So I wrote Amanda a note. I told her absolutely everything I was going through—every gory detail. I told her how sad I was. I told her how much I looked up to her. I poured my soul out onto that college-ruled piece of paper, slid it into her locker, and waited. I waited and waited and waited. I waited so long I thought I was going to drop dead due to a mix of anxiety and anticipation. Finally, when I walked into the hallway, Amanda pulled me aside and thanked me for my note. Nothing more. That was it. I has poured my entire life out in lead and tears and all she could say was “Thanks?” I was hurt and confused, but figured that was the end of it all. However, this is high school. It would not end there. Later that day, while walking to my next class I overheard Amanda talking to another girl. I listened closely. Call it intuition or call it paranoia—I knew they were talking about me. Amanda’s hair perfectly bounced to the side as she casually said to her minion, “I may be have been having a rough time, but at least I am not putting notes in people’s lockers about it.” She laughed. They laughed. I died inside. Amanda had used my vulnerability as a way to bolster her perceived stability."

This passage screams closet case to me. It wouldn't surprise me at all given her Mormon upbringing, though she's also a desperate weirdo with zero social skills so it really could be either/or.

That's some BPD level attention seeking

 

[glass_houses]

When I was eight years old, someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. A precocious child, I remember turning around, looking them square in the eye and responding, “I want to be a renaissance woman.” That desire has stuck with me since then, and has served as my grand goal of sorts. Desiring that renaissance woman lifestyle in my mind, I’ve taken risks I might not have taken otherwise. I’ve learned languages, lived abroad, took chances in my career, and always kept learning. Now some twenty-five years later, I’m an author, marketeer, speaker, fashionista, scientist, analyst, and more. That grand goal I set as a child became a lens through which to see my future differently and allowed me to continually learn and reinvent myself.

Seven chapters in I was mostly annoyed at her selecting the quotes at the beginning of each chapter by googling "quotes on x" and randomly picking whatever sounded good, but now I just want to snot her one in minecraft.

EDIT:
Interesting, didn't the sister die from obesity?

I was the child of two athlete siblings. My sister was a nationally ranked track star and my brother was a former national champion wrestler.

Hmm. "Those that can, do, those that can't teach."

I live with internal loneliness, and learning this has been critical in managing my own happiness. Social media can be a huge trigger of these feelings for me; FOMO (fear of missing out) means much more to a person with internal loneliness.

 

[GenociderSyo]

Seven chapters in I was mostly annoyed at her selecting the quotes at the beginning of each chapter by googling "quotes on x" and randomly picking whatever sounded good, but now I just want to snot her one in minecraft.

EDIT:
Interesting, didn't the sister die from obesity?

Yep. Later in book she states she died of an instestinal infarction.

 

[glass_houses]

Yep. Later in book she states she died of an instestinal infarction.

At least she didn't try to set the house on fire by throwing her knickers on a lamp like Anna did.

I have some doubts here:

The underwear incident was just my first unusual experience of many. I’ve been trapped in a snow avalanche, lost in a foreign country, had my apartment flood, and split my pants on the Vegas Strip. I’ve also experienced trauma like losing my mother and sister, being robbed while home, and accidently ending up in the middle of a knife fight. The amount of crazy and at times downright depressing things life has thrown at me has even earned me the endearing nickname Calamity Jane.

 

[GenociderSyo]

At least she didn't try to set the house on fire by throwing her knickers on a lamp like Anna did.

Funny thing is the paragraph before she thought it was cause she ignored her parents and forgot to turn the curling iron off.

 

[glass_houses]

Another doubtful claim:

I was devastated…for like thirty minutes. That was about how long it took me to realize I needed to get out of the crafting world and into the supply world. I gathered up all the junk I had left to from my fashion war, repackaged them, and took them to school to sell. It began with craft supplies and soon extended to things out of an Oriental Trading Company catalog. Eventually I progressed to beanie babies, getting in ahead of the trend and making enough sales at consignment stores as a fourteen-year-old to finance a year abroad.

So she could move non addictive substances like a pro at fourteen, but was otherwise such an absolute wreck they sent her to remedial school?

You know, I don't know why, but I keep getting this impression that Anna might be telling one or two little porkies.

 

[GenociderSyo]

You know, I don't know why, but I keep getting this impression that Anna might be telling one or two little porkies.

Believe this is more representative of the amount of porkies she's told in the novel alone (Did not know you could buy a 5lb pack of this):

 

[glass_houses]

Okay, finished the book.

The way she talks all the way through it, you'd think that she'd had a never ending stream of mancookie breaking down her door, begging for dates and sex since she left high school. Oh, the ex boyfriends she's had, chiseled of jaw and sculptured of abdomen! She helpfully provides a bibliography at the end, but then flat out destroys any remote credibility this might bring her by referencing Wikipedia! Another note simply reads, "I made these numbers up."

To anyone thinking of reading it, it'll only take a couple of hours, max, and the only difficulty it'll give you is with the lack of editing. Don't buy it, pirate it. Not to deny Anna the money out of vindictiveness, but because it is completely without substance and has a distinct lack of merit.

 

[OttoWest]

The amount of crazy and at times downright depressing things life has thrown at me has even earned me the endearing nickname Calamity Jane.

Lol. You have to have friends to be rewarded with an endearing nickname. This embarrassing self-aggrandizement reminds me of Finding Freedom, the Meghan Markle and spouse “unauthorized” bio that was largely ghostwritten by Markle herself.

Actual excerpts:

A good friend of Meghan’s called her Grace Under Fire, because despite whatever pressure she was under she didn’t fall apart.

Meghan’s willingness to help others and her drive to excel meant she often was deemed "fake" by classmates at school who felt it was impossible for anyone to be that "perfect".

Meghan, however, threw him off immediately. It wasn’t just her charming freckles, perfect smile, or American accents. Meghan is someone who works a room very well. In social settings, all eyes are drawn to her. She laughs a little louder, glows a little brighter. She’s self-assured in a way that attracts attention.

 

[Gramlol]

Okay, finished the book.

The way she talks all the way through it, you'd think that she'd had a never ending stream of mancookie breaking down her door, begging for dates and sex since she left high school. Oh, the ex boyfriends she's had, chiseled of jaw and sculptured of abdomen! She helpfully provides a bibliography at the end, but then flat out destroys any remote credibility this might bring her by referencing Wikipedia! Another note simply reads, "I made these numbers up."

To anyone thinking of reading it, it'll only take a couple of hours, max, and the only difficulty it'll give you is with the lack of editing. Don't buy it, pirate it. Not to deny Anna the money out of vindictiveness, but because it is completely without substance and has a distinct lack of merit.

Does she ever talk about being fat or a 'plus size icon' in the book? She's a rare lolcow with her not really making her weight the main focus of her identity (opting instead for cute! Fun girl! ...at the age of 37..)

 

[GenociderSyo]

New TikTok:

Someon elses's unboxing of it since she really showed nothing:

Inside:
Box of cards with idea for tiktok challenges to do (100 challenge cards)
Mirror
Popsocket
Little vase with fake flowers/feathers (Forever Florals)
Long sleeved T-Shirt from BFFs and Babes which you know is sized to what most people wear since this is mass mailed.
(Guess we know why she didnt do an unboxing)

 

[glass_houses]

Does she ever talk about being fat or a 'plus size icon' in the book? She's a rare lolcow with her not really making her weight the main focus of her identity (opting instead for cute! Fun girl! ...at the age of 37..)

@GenociderSyo posted the two main parts that come immediately to mind:

There was one point where middle-school Anna cracked. I was at lunch when a wild-haired boy, with a devilish grin and even more devilish intentions, hurled a Little Debbie oatmeal cookie (yes, I remember the exact cookie that spawned my reaction) at my face. It made a loud thwapping noise as it cracked against my head, and I heard a table of juvenile boys burst into laughter. I remember taking that very sandwich, and holding it in my hands. I didn’t deserve this and I was pissed. I sauntered over to that very table where the boys were still cackling and congratulating themselves on their hilarious humiliation. I opened the wrapper to the sandwich slowly, as their heads turned to me. Just as deliberately I removed the sweet gooey cookie treat from its plastic cage. I stood directly behind the ringleader of stupidity and I held that sandwich high like a gift from the gods. With all the fearlessness I could muster I brought the sandwich down hard onto his popular head. I mushed that sandwich. I squished it good. I rubbed it into his hair like I was making mashed potatoes. It was a mush-a-palooza. “I am a beast,” I uttered, as creme and cookie bits flew everywhere.

She says that she got sent to the principal's office for it and the bullying kicked up a notch in response.

To add something to that, apparently her nan was pretty brutal to her about her weight:

I was eleven when I first remember someone explaining to me that my body was something to be ashamed of. We were on vacation and visiting my grandparents in their sunny, golf-cart-fueled senior citizen society just outside Orlando. I was in the kitchen, helping my grandmother prepare a list of items we would need from the store while in Florida.
“Strawberry toaster strudel.” I said with a big, cheeky grin. I hadn’t visited my grandparents much before, but I knew from TV that if someone was going to let me eat fruit-flavored sugar wrapped in buttery faux pastry and topped with frosting for breakfast, it was going to be my grandma. Grandparents are always the ones baking cookies, prying candies from their lint-covered pockets, and playing innocent after sneaking contraband to their doting grandchildren.
“You don’t need that,” was my grandmother’s stern reply. “But whyyyyy,” I asked, with my preteen dramatics kicking in. She turned to me and said, “You could stand to lose some weight—nobody likes an overweight girl.” I looked her square in the eye, crossed my arms, and said defiantly, “God loves me just the way I am!” She paused, looked away, and with a slight smirk spoke five words I will never forget: “God doesn’t love fat girls.”

As for her 'career':

Every once in a while, as an online personality, something I create will go viral and be consumed by far more than my usual audience. The broader the audience that sees my content, the more likely it is for my images to pop in the path of people who don’t appreciate them. This leads to hordes of people negatively discussing everything from my weight, to my style choices, to how they perceive my lifestyle—all in a public forum that conveniently notifies me with each little heartless zing. It’s great. So when this happens, when the world is talking about me online, I shut off my computer, I turn off my phone, and I separate myself from the chaos. I have learned, by making the wrong choice a million-and-one times, that the easiest way to deal with online hate is to separate yourself from it. I don’t Google myself and have mechanisms for filtering out comments that are offensive on my own pages. They can say what they want, but I do not have to indulge them by consuming and reacting to their hate.