I was watching TV a few weeks ago, and I came across a show that was a pretty eye-opening reflection of 21st century America. Unfortunately, after watching it, I wanted to rub hydrofluoric acid into my eye sockets to ensure that I would never see anything like it again. It was probably the most disturbing thing I’ve seen, since I “accidentally” clicked on a link for transgendered bodybuilding porn.
The show was about a 700-pound man whose body was fused to his couch. The man was too big to move, so he had been wallowing in his own feces and urine for the last two years, which caused his skin to graft to the upholstery. In order to take him to the local hospital for medical treatment, firefighters had to cut a hole in the side of his house so they could load him onto a flatbed truck. The people that lived with this guy looked like they were hoping that the attending physician would be Dr. Conrad Murray.
I tried to find a link to the story to see what happened to the guy, but unfortunately, this is a pretty common occurrence in this great nation of ours. I Googled different variations of “man fused to couch” and over 7.4 million results popped up. I saw plenty of stories about morbidly obese people fused to their furniture, just not the particular one that I was looking for. That got me thinking – has America turned into the fat kid at the party? I mean, what are the chances that you would see something like this happen in another country? Pardon the pun, but I’m guessing between slim and none. You’d probably have a better shot at seeing Michael Richards perform a killer set at Showtime at the Apollo.
You see, other nations don’t really face the same type of food-related dilemmas that we do. When was the last time you heard a kid from the Sudan bitching about an ice cream headache? Or how many Vietnamese do you think had to have their stomachs stapled last year because they couldn’t lay off the Funyuns?
38% of Americans are obese. That number has doubled in the past 15 years and scientists expect it to climb to 50% by 2030. When almost half of our population is considered obese, it’s no wonder why our health-related entitlement spending is bankrupting our country. It’s time for America to put down the fork, because nobody likes a country that is fat and broke. Look at Greece.
Now, when I say put down the fork, I’m not advocating for anything like the Mayor Bloomberg soda ban. That left wing, paternalistic nonsense infringes upon our personal freedoms and fundamental rights as Americans. If someone wants to order 144-ounces of Surge Energy Drink, then by all means, they should have every right to do so. But I do think the government should start incentivizing healthy behavior, before half of us end up like that aforementioned couch monster.
So here is my proposal – every married person in the entire country should be required to have one extra-marital affair per year. We’ll call this the Bone-to-Tone Act and I think it will do a lot to get those obesity numbers to start trending downward. Let me explain.
Scientists say that within a couple of years of getting married, you are twice as likely to become ‘obese’ than the average single person. That makes sense. Back when I was single, I wasn’t necessarily an Adonis, but I certainly didn’t have some of the physical attributes that I have today, i.e. rounded shoulders, pizza tits, Mitch McConnell’s chin, and abs like the Michelin Man. I used to work out all the time, because when I was single, I really only had one fear – involuntary celibacy. I knew that if I didn’t keep myself in shape, then it would be another long year of glazed knuckles, and the only chick I’d have a chance with was the 3 that lived across the hall who had needle marks between her toes and daddy issues that would make Mackenzie Phillips cringe. Needless to say, I worked out almost every day.
That all changed when my ball-and-chain entered the picture. She made sure my days of trolling for damaged women were in the rear view mirror, so in turn, I stopped working out and started eating like that heavy set fella from the pie-eating contest in Stand by Me. I’ve quickly turned into a relatively unhealthy bastard, mainly because I have very little incentive to stay in shape. I occasionally try a trendy new diet like mainlining Fen-Phen or tooting diuretics off a switchblade, but none of these ever seem to work. It’s starting to become clear that the only way I’m going to get back into fighting shape is with diet and exercise, which sounds about as appealing as having my penis amputated. It’s almost impossible to get motivated to eat my veggies and mix in an hour of cardio when the only payoff is that I’ll no longer have to shop in the husky section.
However, if I am statutorily required to engage in a little skeet and retreat with a complete stranger of my choosing, then I’ll be in the gym eight days a week and my abs will be tighter than Bruce Jenner’s face. And I know I won’t be the only one. Think of the middle-aged schlub who is trapped in a sexless marriage. The pinnacle of his sex life comes when he gets to drive home the babysitter, and the second she gets out of the car, he gets to bury his face into the passenger seat cushion and take a giant whiff. Think of how fast he’ll dust off his Chuck Norris Total Gym if he thinks he’s got a green light to drop a hot nut in that. Or imagine the bored housewife – what’s it going to take to get her on the treadmill? Another night at home with a copy of 50 Shades of Grey and her greasy sex toy? Hasn’t happened yet.
Monogamy has incentivized too many people to let themselves go, and it is costing our nation billions every year. We can no longer afford to keep up this outdated practice. Think of all the societal benefits that will come if everybody’s got a little extra incentive to get in shape. We’ll be living longer and healthier lives, our health care costs and insurance premiums will come down, and we’ll all be a little easier on the eyes.
Sounds good to me. So what’s the downside? Your wife comes home once every 12 months with a little sperm on her breath? Well, that certainly is the rub, but as long as she doesn’t turn into some sort of load warrior, then I think it is something you can deal with, especially if she gets herself back into shape and now has an ass that’s as tight as a snare drum.