That was the title of my morning email to Zig, currently training in Alabama, in response to our phone
conversation last night. He mentioned (in a very polite, un-betty way), that the ratio of
overweight, unhealthy people in Alabama tipped the scale in favor of chubby chasers. That segued into
a conversation about the documentary Super Size Me, and it was my understanding that Texas had the highest population of obesity, as credited in the film. Zig wondered if Alabama pulled a close second.
I've never been to Alabama, partially because I'm a pasty, spindly, shut-in who develops a cancerous mole every time I'm in the sun for more than ten minutes. But also due to the fact that I am deathly afraid of banjo music and flies buzzing around old people in porch rockers. Are they living? Are they dead? And who is the unimaginative casting director who employs the same bib overalled old men in every single horror film I have ever forced upon my cats? "oh, no!...you stay right there, kitty! momma can't be alone for the scantily-dressed-teenagers-approaching-fly-buzzed-porch-scene! They got lost while taking a shortcut and their car broke down! who knew??!"
"Oh, there is nothing better than a substantial muffin top," I told him. "I know exactly what you do, Zig, you march into the local strip joint, start throwing your money around and yelling, I want a girl in my lap with a substantial muffin top! I want it Now!"
"Sir," they will say. "You pay extra for the muffin."
"Betty," I hear my Alabama friends saying. "We're sending you to hell for insulting our muffins."
With my luck, guarding the gates of hell are two old men in porch rockers. The flies are up my nose. The banjo music is picking up a hot rhythm.
And my belly is the size of a Costco Muffin.