Its the Candy Cops Charlie Brown!
A North Dakota woman says she’s giving out letters to children she believes are obese when they come to her door this Halloween. Bah Halloween hum bug lady. Who died and made you “candy cop”?!? Even if such thing as “candy cop” really existed Jean-Claude Van Damme would be much better as a time traveling Department Of Sugar Land Security agent with the mission to finally get the left and right twixt to reunite forces against overzealous nutritionists bent on making making everything taste like plaster board coated with paste.
I personally hate the terms “Fat”, “Obese” and don’t even get close to me with the term “Morbidly Obese”. Maybe it’s just me, but I can honestly feel the hate, neglect, lack of compassion and understanding just steaming off of them like a industrial complex happily chugging cancer causing smoke/exhaust into the air. I prefer the term “Fluffy”. Yes I am fluffy and I owe no one any apology of any kind for being so. I don’t need your well meaning advise, I don’t need a lecture on vegetables (how do you know I don’t eat vegetables? A salad? ), and I even though I am used to being called “Big Guy” I honestly think people really to think more about what they say before they say it.
Yes, I am quite aware that our nation is getting more overweight, but I am sorry this certainly does not give the media the right to do their obligatory fluffy mid section and posterior camera angles they are famous doing when doing a news story trying to convince everyone that fluffy people are ruining the world as we know it.
Larger airplane seats with arm rests that come up to give you even more room? Theater seats with arm rests that also lift and have cup holders? The return of the Twinkie and the raspberry zinger? Sugary cereal commercials with fully grown adults? The brilliant comedic shenanigans of John Candy? Jackie Gleason? Melissa McCarthy? Billy Gardell? Gabriel Iglesias? Ralphy May? Bruce Bruce? John Pinette? Ect? Your welcome skinny people, your welcome.
Mumblings From Beyond 
I’m fluffier than I want to be, no matter how much I exercise. But I can’t give up cheese like the crazy man at church or pasta and bread like the crazy lady at church, so I’m destined to be portly. I’ll take Melissa McCarthy over her stick-in-the-butt cousin, Jenny, any day. I did have a pin/button that I used to wear on my denim jacket in the 80’s (think “flair” from “Office Space”), which had a picture of a lamb and said, “Ewe’s not fat; ewe’s just fluffy.” Halloween=candy. It’s supposed to. Is that lady going to prevent people from eating turkey on Thanksgiving? I want my fat Paula Deen back!