Fried? Oh....

On Tuesday evening, at the movie theatre/mall, Julian and I watched in horror as our friend ate an order of onion rings, drank a staggeringly huge glass of  pop (32 oz.) and then polished off an ice cream sundae (with sprinkles!). We weren't horrified for our friend's health because he has a metabolism that defies science and laughs in the face of diabetes....for now. We were horrified to think what would happen to us if we ate the same 'supper'.

I'd gain five pounds and have an acre of pimples across my face. I think Julian just figured he'd balloon up to the size of the Hindenburg and then burst into a gaseous ball of flames. Oh...the humanity.

We're eating ourselves to death, methinks. Driving through Saint John yesterday I was astounded by the level of obesity that I witnessed. I struggled to understand how this could possibly happen, then I drove past the 'Fried Dough' sign (in Rothesay, the last bastion of skinniness, no less!).

And what does one drink with fried dough? Sunny D? Coke? Hemlock? Oh...the humanity.

We. Are. Doomed.