I have a theory as to why America has gotten so obese! Even our children have become little porkers. I can’t remember more than one person in my elementary school class that was overweight all of those years ago. Of course that one poor little fat kid that we nicknamed “Hunky Chunky Monkey” was excoriated ruthlessly by the rest of us thinner children in the name of comic relief. The only thing more interesting to talk about was Alana. She was the only other classmate aside from the chunky one who required a bra. She was popular because her chest was fat not despite it.
The rise in per capita weight within the citizenry coincides with the decline of the teen pregnancy rate. Kids are binging still, but no longer upon one another. In the 1980’s carnal snacking was quite the rage and created unwanted babies at an alarming rate. Kids were plopped onto the planet by unwed child-mothers who had the bodies of sticks and all of the sensuality of salmon swimming upstream. Somehow the boy population in those days didn’t need anything more than to share their testosterone with nearest shapeless girl as a societal pressure relief valve.
This phenomenon is not that different than what you find in marriages today. At the beginning, newlyweds are bumping and grinding like rabbits. You can tell who’s a recently married couple by simply taking a walk around the neighborhood on a few successive nights. The houses you hear all of those strange noises coming from all of the time are the ones with the bride and groom actively romping through their pleasure room. Listen long enough and you’ll hear performing feats of spectacular delight with a repertoire befitting its own chapter in the Kama Sutra. It may sound like she is being knifed, or he is doing a mad- bull stuck in a tar pit imitation, but really those are just the sound of true love (or some sloppy rendering, pleasures of the flesh).
Once the children start arriving for a couple the libido death knell is sounded. The ladies usually lose interest; the men forget what made them famous in the courtship, and focus more on how to land their lips around the tip of a long neck bottle of beer rather than around their woman in the same seductive way.
Then after a period of time, couples start to swallow all of the pent up sexual frustration. Just because there is no getting-it-on in great frequency anymore doesn’t mean the hormones don’t still rage. Fools start to consume their frustration in various forms of food and drink. To excess they go as they replace their favorite well positioned activities with a different sensory stimulation geared toward the taste buds. With the world of processed high fat foods the next thing you find is that the 9 months of gestation is replaced by 9 months of ingestion resulting in that mound above your waistline; it isn’t a baby either, it’s a beer belly.
If you want to find the most sexually frustrated folks in the neighborhood check out the largest ones. They are making their moves on a box of frosted flakes, a bowl of ice cream, a load of Oreo cookies, and a box of donuts instead of upon their spouse. You’ll notice that the ones gaining weight are on the down slope of the Saturday night love-machine frolics, while the ones getting in shape are rolling in the hay most often. Note that silent skinny person in the neighborhood; they don’t talk ‘cause their hoarse from all of that midnight vocalization between the sheets. They’re happy and making it, laughing all the way to the Lovin’ Time’s store for more supplies.
Staying in shape certainly means more than it use to in our modern society and now you know where one needs to be to properly exercise your mind, body and your demons. The bedroom is America’s gymnasium and playground. More couples need to get back to that regular role-playing slurp-sounding, great-to-be-alive style of exercise.
