To the ready-to-pop pregnant lady at the 32nd/Division food cart pod on Tuesday night: congratufuckinglations, somebody knocked you up. All of us here trying to eat might be happy for you if you if you didn't have your disgusting stretch marked tattooed belly hanging out from under your rolled-up tank top. This is a place people come to eat. I don't want to look up from my Venezuelan rice and plantains and see what looks like worms crawling under your swollen gut. I get that this is beautiful, accepting SE Portland and you're a proud tattooed Mom, but I shouldn't have to use my dinner partner as a human shield from the unsettling view. Shame on YOUR dinner partners for not calling you out. I guess they just weren't hungry. I can't WAIT until you squirt that thing out and I have to see it hanging from your tit all over Portland.
Cover It Up Prego; I’m Eating!
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