Hey! Did you hear? Mississippi is trying to pass an anti-Bloomberg bill that would make it illegal for local governments to limit portion sizes and require caloric information to be posted in restaurants.
Yeah! I'm talkin' to YOU, MommyX, our delegate from the crooked-letter state. I knew it wouldn't be long until I had some news from Missi-freakin-sippi to share with you. Good to see that you still hold the title of the nation's most obese state. Sometimes it's hard to stay up on that pedestal with everybody trying to knock you off...but your citizens have prevailed. Or else it's just the universe declaring that the law of inertia is still in effect.
Yes, let's all raise our gallon jugs of sweet tea, our 44 oz. cups of The Real Thing, our tankards of Pink Panties, and our flagons of Cherry Kool-Aid in a toast to that BBQ-owning restaurateur lawmaker who sponsored this bill. Our hats, along with our binding undergarments, are off to you. Here's hoping that a Pajama Jean factory is in your district's future.
It's high time somebody stood up for the people who prefer not to. Let them eat cake! Let them eat gas station chicken! Let them eat whatever they desire, because they're not hurting anyone, except maybe those who have to sit next to them on airline flights, and those victims of the occasional unfortunate Walmart beeper-cart faux pas, and...well...their pallbearers. Yes, the citizens of Mississippi deserve their freedom to choose, not lose. If not for them, who would the rest of the populace feel superior to? Besides people who use prepositions to end sentences with.
Chomp on, Mississippi! Eat, pray, love. By that, I mean eat like there's no tomorrow, pray that your next meal is just round the corner, and that you're going to love it.
Oh, here's a link to the article. There were several different sources, but I chose the one from that last bastion of unjaded journalism, The New York Daily News.
I DO love to revel in the celebration of another state's notoriety. Doesn't matter if Missouri weighs in at one-point-three ounces under Mississippi's total citizenry tonnage...IT'S NOT US!
Enjoy, MommyX. Here's hoping that Good Morning America will get this news out of its system in time to air your segment on Monday, March 18. We can't have you getting bumped for proposed gluttony-protection laws.
I eagerly await your rebuttal in the form of breaking news from the state of Missouri.
I have a wonderful invention I'm developing. Perhaps the citizens of Mississippi would be interested in it...It is two plastic 64-oz. containers. Each one is attached to a long plastic tube. One of the tubes can be used like a long straw. That container can be filled with soda, beer or whatever. The other tube is an extra long catheter tube. After all, all of that liquid has to go somewhere...
ReplyDeleteIt's gonna be called the SlurpPee.
As long as they don't make the 6 foot sub illegal...What would people do on Superbowl Sunday?
ReplyDeleteThat is what we need, more silly laws!
Soda doesn't kill people, overeating people kill people.
Eat, drink, and suffer the consequences, I say as I munch a handful of chocolate covered pretzel thins.
ReplyDeleteSioux,
ReplyDeleteThat's a most scathingly brilliant idea! I will make room on the counter of the outlet store for my proposed handbasket factory so you can set up a display. I'm sure Linda can hook you up with some money-saving ideas to construct your invention out of recycled items. You can Zentangle yourself a nice graphic to use on the label.
I, myself, just thought up a similar invention for teachers that uses old-fashioned floppy hot-water bottles strapped against the body under clothing. And it does the same thing as YOUR invention! What a coincidence! We both thought up our gadgets at almost exactly the same time...
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joeh,
Shh...don't play up the 6-foot sub angle. Once those overeating people fatten their fingers so they can no longer pull a trigger, they might start flogging intruders with 6-foot subs. Let's make limp spaghetti noodles the hot new Super Bowl snack. Then sneak out for a 6-foot sub. You'll have to be creative in disguising it to bring it back home. No Lucy on a plane with a cheese baby.
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Linda,
Chocolate covered pretzel thins? What you need is a crash course in suffering. I'm sure you can find a class at a local chapter of The Learning Annex. If not, I am willing to tutor you. Have you ever tried gas station chicken?
I have no doubt that Missouri will provide adequate material soon enough. Meth tends to create drama, after all.
ReplyDeleteThis has become a real soapbox for me in the last year or two. I wrote a very long comment here, but deleted it because I didn't want to totally hijack the thread. Maybe I'll save it for a post of my own. The high points of the long comment I'm not posting: 1-- freedom's good, 2-- fried chicken is better, 3-- education, education, education, 4-- moderation.
Or you could just eat all the gas station chicken you want and use meth to keep your weight in check.
MommyX,
ReplyDeleteA novel solution to a midwestern problem. How's that teen birthrate record holding out?
We seem to be branching out into the gun-flourishing arena. Our local paper had a front-page article a few weeks back about women holding their own concealed carry class. The gist of it was that women are not taken seriously by men, so they were having a class FOR and BY women. Then the group came together for a picture while striking the quintessential Charlie's Angels pose.