(PS: I had an ice cream cone for lunch today. Should I feel badly about this obviously unhealthy choice, or preen because ice cream has never made me fatter?)

You should take the Big Macz from the hands of Botticellis’ girlz and eateded them.

Meme Roth is an obesity expert because she declared herself president of her own club about obesity and said she knew what she was talking about.

Point of Order. I’d like to call for a recount.

All those in favor plZ throw ur middle fingahz in the aiyr
and waveded themz liek u JUST DON’T CAYR.

*fAT troll kitteh sez kthxbai*

I’m still confused. I am frequently unhealthy, but I am also thin. Does this mean I have to treat obese people, who as your bulletproof logic asserts are also frequently unhealthy, with the same basic dignity I expect for my frequently-unhealthy self? Or can I bask in my superiority to them because, despite being unhealthy, I am thin?

Please respond quickly, as the matter is urgent. I might have to hold an elevator for a fat person during my errands today, and I want to know whether I should extend this common courtesy or tell them to take the stairs. Thanks!

(PS: I had an ice cream cone for lunch today. Should I feel badly about this obviously unhealthy choice, or preen because ice cream has never made me fatter?)

Stupid smug smilies.

The “Oh noes we’re all going to DIE!!!!” sort of hype.

The “stealth disease” teaser (as in “Five things in your refrigerator that could KILL YOU!”)

The “let’s terrify the mommies” trope (“What you are feeding your child could make them stupid and ugly and unpopular!”)

Etc., etc.

I know that “if it bleeds, it leads” is a long-term dictum of the news industry but I do think the whole “We are all so doomed!” mentality has become worse in the past few years, and I can completely see people buying into it to the point where if someone deviates even a tiny bit from what is “prescribed” to be the “right” body type or lifestyle, they freak out and expect that person to be at death’s door.

And I’m sick of it. And it makes me mad. Look, busybodies: I know my blood pressure, blood cholesterol, and blood sugar numbers. THEY ARE ALL FINE. My DOCTOR thinks they are ALL FINE. So butt out and leave me alone; don’t give me the diabetes or hypertension scare story because I am sick of hearing it.

So you can win baby flavoured donuts.

Obviously.

But seriously, at any point over the rest of my life, filling out medical surveys, doctors appointments, whatever – when people ask me my BMI, I’m totally answering “It’s somewhere in the Weird range.”

And if it’s a paper survey, I’m making a new little box, labeling it “weird” and then checking that.

So… having fat kids makes you a bad mother. Right. And you choose to illustrate this point with a) photos of fat people from a century or so ago, thus neatly puncturing the People Were Only Fat This Century myth, and b) they were posed erotically, which suggests that a number of somebodies somewhere thought fat people were OMGHAWT enough to comission postcards of them, therefore neatly puncturing the narrow modern definition of what makes someone sexually attractive.

Methinks they have some contradictory thinking going on in their head.