Monday, April 23, 2007

Put the Burger Down and No One Gets Hurt


There was this great documentary on tv last night about the super morbidly obese. It was fascinating. One man, over 750lbs and bed ridden, somehow managed to get food delivered to him at the hospital, and no one stopped him. He actually called from his beds, as if from home. If I were in charge, I'd lock his fucking doors, disconnect the phones and take away his wallet. Maybe put an armed guard outside his room, just in case.

Meanwhile, the sucker who was responsible for the whole program was like, "What can I do?" Excuse me? Idiot! Slap some sense into these people! Time for some damn tough love.

I mean, really, when a crane is needed to get you to sit upright, or it takes seven men to get you out of your house, then you need to wake up. If they need to rip a hole in the side of your house to get you to the hospital, then you need to wake up.

In Mexico, one man was paraded around, his bed wheeled around town, with a mariachi band playing, a banner hanging from his four post bed behind him. All because he lost some weight. Can you say freak show? And yet, this man was not ashamed. He even had a girlfriend. They talked of having babies together.

Another bed-ridden man, around 700 lbs suddenly was able to walk only after told that his family had laid out all the food he would eat in a day on the table. This was to shock him. But he just started eating instead.

The most fascinating one of all was a guy who started out around 500lbs, until Richard Simmons got involved. Say what you want about Richard, at least he did good by him. The man ended up losing all the weight, fitting into a pair of size 34 pants. He was an instant celebrity, performing with Richard on one of his tapes. Imagine how incredible that must have felt.

The next day, he started binge eating. And within a few months, had ballooned to 700lbs. It took five men to get him out of his apartment. When they hoisted him onto the bed at the hospital, he landed with a thud, yelling at them for being "rough" with him. I'd have said, "It's called physics, asshole."

I wonder how you get to that point. And who the hell is paying for all this food? For me, the second my thighs rub together, I have a panic attack. Yet the friction from these people's thighs could start a forest fire. I can't wait to go to the gym tonight.

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