Reporting Luis Prada
A couple years ago, I bought my mom a laptop. To this day, if I were to peek over her shoulder when she’s using it, or if I wake it up and look at the web page she left open in the browser, I’ll find a WebMD page detailing whatever new diseases she thinks she has. I’ve inherited this hypochondria from my mom. I’m not a WebMD power user, but any little pain, any unusual sensation, and my brain is loaded images of my own funeral, which is filled with crying friends and family members all yelling at my corpse, “Why didn’t you just WebMD it?! WHHHHHY?!”
I’ve put on a little bit of weight in the past year. Not much. The couple of times I’ve complained about my weight to friends who actually do have weight problems, I’ve received no sympathy in return; just pissed-off glares that can shatter glass. In the past year alone, I’ve torn through six pairs of glasses just by talking to my overweight friends about my slight ponch. Yet, my fear of losing control of my health persisted. Somewhere along the way, I envisioned a future filled with diabetes, surgically removed limbs, and electric scooters. As I learned from my mom, if I think there’s anything even remotely wrong with me, I had better hit up the internet to confirm that I only have three months to live. So, I researched all the ill-effects of being overweight and then got sucked down the depressing rabbit hole of bad obesity news, a hole that had been widened because of all the fat people who slid down it before me.
That idea, oddly, is not that far removed from reality, according to my paranoia-fueled research. There are so many fat people that their weight is physically altering the things around them. Modern kids are so fat their school chairs are expanding, gaining wider seating and deeper depth – words that were once used to advertise standard features in big-ass Cadillacs. Office chairs are getting bigger, too. A guy who sells office chairs specifically for the overweight is himself surprised by the number of people ordering the model that can hold up to 600 pounds of human ass. Big John, a company that sells toilets that can support lots of poundage, and offers toilets that can support 19-inches of human ass, can’t keep up with the demand. Granted, some are repeat customers who have to buy the very real and in no way a joke extra supports that can hold up wall-mounted toilets. All seats are getting bigger. On Trains. In movie theaters. Seats at Yankee stadium. And even the saddles for horses. Those poor, poor, unenviable horses, who were never meant to carry the weight equivalent weight of other, larger horses.
We’re not just infecting seats, we’re infecting each other. After a decades-long study that involved near constant monitoring of thousands of people and their friends and their friend’s friends and, oh, all of their families, too, researchers found that fat is contagious. If you start gaining weight, it starts to look acceptable to your friends and loved ones who subconsciously pack on the pounds. Everyone in your inner and outer-circles has a 57 percent chance of gaining weight along with you after you throw in the towel and say “F**k it” to saying in shape. When I read this, I suddenly had a comeback for when my large buddies starred daggers at me for complaining about my “weight problem.” All I had to do was toss back the classic “I learned it from watching you!” and all they could do feel satisfied with their passive destruction of my body.
So what does this expanding world lead to? American businesses lose $73.1 billion annually because of obese full-time employees. Obese workers have to take more days off because of all the almost-dying they always go through, and they’re less productive than their slim co-workers. Loss of productivity accounts for an insane 41% of those billions.
Hope you don’t need an organ in the future, because people who are showing one of the ultimate forms of compassion by offering to give up a chunk of themselves to save another are being turned away because they’re too fat and the risk of rejection is too high. People are so fat they can’t even save someone by lying down, falling into a deep sleep, and letting a professional life-saver do the life saving for them.
Let’s keep expanding the scope here, because screw it. We’re all gonna die soon anyway; might as well get to know our porky hangman. I should never have started Googling this s**t.
If America goes to war and a draft is instituted, a huge number of men and women would be disqualified for being too fat. In the first ten months of 2012, over 1,600 potential army recruits were deemed ineligible due to their weight. Because of this fact, military officials have publicly stated that obesity is perhaps our biggest national security threat. Apparently, Americans love all the fringe benefits of being American, but the over-indulgence of those benefits is making us too fat to fight; to properly defend our nation. Suddenly, the U.S. military’s reliance on drone warfare makes some sense. Might as well train people how to pilot those things now, because by the time the next war rolls around there’ll be only three skinny guys on the front lines and the only back up they’re going to have is a sun-blocking mega-squadron of drones piloted by 300 pounders in camo fatigues.
Ultimately, though, our fighting force won’t matter much. Obesity is going to be humanity’s extinction-level event. According to a study out of the Baylor College of Medicine, being obese changes your DNA so much that it can actually be passed down to your child. The child will grow up to be obese, even if it kid doesn’t overeat or eat junk food. Obesity is what that kid’s genes would accept as normal. In addition to that, obesity causes fertility rates to plummet in both men and women, making the continued existence of human life an exhausting, futile chore. Mix those two discoveries together, along with maybe with a few scoops of ice cream and a tub of Cool Whip, and you’ve got the makings of mankind’s demise.
I don’t even want to diet anymore. I don’t want to jog. Just give us all a bucket of fried chicken skin and a Fleshlight and tell the last person left alive on Earth to turn off all the running water falls as to not be wasteful. We’re done.