You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy!™
The fat content of the average American.
We have de-evolved into a jiggling belly of cellulite, with sprinkles and lard on top.
I’m not quoting any medical journals here. I don’t have statistical data to qualify this statement. I have my own two eyes, and that is good enough.
They say, seeing is believing. Well from what I have seen, America is overdosing on fat, mainlining sugar, and ingesting so much soda its a wonder anyone can think straight.
During a recent trip to Santa Claus, Indiana, I saw more park patrons jollier than St. Nick. The theme park is known as Holiday World. It is a pleasant, family oriented place, where I saw so much skin bouncing that I needed Dramamine to calm my nerves.
The park is half amusement park and half water park. That’s appropriate since these human-bovine, in tiny swim suits, was amusing to say the least.
Every attraction has a sign proclaiming: MUST BE THIS TALL TO RIDE.
What the park needs is a representative seat outside each ride proclaiming: TO RIDE THIS RIDE, YOUR ASS MUST FIT IN THIS SEAT!
I rode with people who need KY Jelly to lube themselves into rides. It was nauseating. These were the same people who crammed all their skin into bathing suits that were constructed by Good Year.
I saw a ride operators hanging, with all his 200 pounds, on a safety harness, his feet dangling off the ground as he tried to muscle the device over the top of the massive passenger whose neck was in three different area codes.
I saw people who couldn’t fit into log flumes without a wedge of butter to grease their sides. I saw people so fat that I was afraid the log flume would sink.
It’s not just how much skin I saw, it’s what I saw on that flabby saggy elastic skin that made my stomach quiver.
I’m talking body art. If you didn’t have a tramp stamp or a tribal bicept tatoo you were in the minority.
One bikini clad girl looked like a living comic strip. She had so much ink, I couldn’t tell where her suit ended and her skin began. She had the outline of something on her shoulder that looked like a prison tattoo drawn with a sharpie. There was a partially completed character on her back, and more ink staining her arms and stomach. Like a comic book caught in a jet engine and blown against a brick wall, there just didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to the nastiness accruing on her flesh like a petri dish full of skin eating bacterium.
One girl, with a pretty face, had the numerals: 5 1 3 tattooed down the side of her neck. Why? Is this her area code? Is it the combination to her bike lock?
The park was extra clean. The people were extra dirty.
It doesn’t help that HOLIDAY WORLD offers free soft drinks to these mastodons of weight management.
Every 100 feet, there is a Pepsi Oasis hut open to the public. The huts blow cold air and invite the rotund visitors inside where they can load up on a myriad of sugary sodas.
I love the idea of free soft drinks, but at this pig pen of fat, giving away free Pepsi is like Weight Watchers giving away free chocolate cake. It just doesn’t make sense.
I saw so many gargantuan sized people inhaling sugary funnel cakes I wanted to punch them in the face.
“How fat do you want to be?” I felt like screaming.
What really made me sad was how fat some of these kids were. They were blobbing around in swim suits looking like juvenile versions of John Candy.
The only good news; to get on a ride, you had to walk and climb. The lines were usually up stairs and long ramps. It was a constant stair master getting from one ride to the next.
So when Jay Leno and the media tell you that America is Fat, they aren’t kidding. There is plenty of evidence of this, and I only had to open my eyes to see it.
And that is crazy.