I work out. I mean, I’m not thin, but you wouldn’t mistake me for a walking barn or anything either. I’ve got curves, some in places that used to be a bit flatter, but, hey, I’ve had two kids. And like chocolate. And I take my coffee with extra extra. That’s Dunkin Donuts-ese for “too much sugar, and too much cream, please!”

Skinny women just give me the creeps.

They’re always passing up the muffins at get-togethers. Drinking bottled water. Worried about that 5 pounds they put on during the holidays. “Yeah,” I think, “I’m not so worried about the 5 pounds from the holidays…it’s the other 40 that are kinda weighing on me!”

Skinny women are twitchy, to borrow a word from a friend of mine. You don’t want to hug them because they’re bony and self-conscious of that 5 pounds. Or maybe they just act all nervous, afraid that I’ll crush them?

Yes, I know. Americans are all obese and we’re all going to die with a pork chop in one hand and a chocolate bar in the other. And the rest of the world will say “I told you so!” Heart disease, diabetes, choking on pork chops…. all big killers in the land of the free.

It’s just not natural for your bones to stick out, girlfriend. Go eat a sandwich and turn on CNN to see the people who are REALLY starving. Yeah, it’s nice to have great abs. If you’re a body builder. But what’s wrong with looking like a woman? Curvy. Satiated.

Bring on the voluptuous women models, ye paragons of media! I’m trying to raise women here, and I could use a little help!

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