Happy Gluttonous Easter

Happy Easter. In honor of Easter, let's take a look at some Easter candy ingestion statistics from the UK and try to figure out what in the world is going on over there.

According to an article by those fine folks across the pond over there at The Telegraph, a mystery shopping company (whatever the heck that is) took a poll and found out that "Children will indulge in an average of more than two-and-a-half kilograms of chocolate over the Easter holiday." Wait. Two and a half kilograms?!

A kilogram is around 2.2 pounds. Thus, 2.5 kilograms would be the equivalent of 5.5 POUNDS. Of chocolate? Eaten?! By children?! (I'm pretty sure that somewhere in here there's some sort of a joke about the stereotypical Brit with bad teeth, I'm just a little unsure of how to phrase it, so that's going to have to do.)

The article goes on to state that "...a typical 200g Easter egg has 990 calories and 50 grams of fat, with youngsters aged 10-14 eating an average of 13, many first thing on Easter Sunday." Wait a minute here. A 200 gram chocolate Easter egg is "typical" for those folks? How many grams in a pound? (Let's see....four quarts in a gallon...two cups in a pint...takes one to know one....what's good for the goose....what was the question?) 1 pound = 453.59237 grams. Thus, 200 grams would be a little bit less than half a pound. That's TYPICAL?!?!

This cannot possibly be correct, can it? And these kids are eating thirteen of those eggs? Well, of course they are, considering that they're eating 5-1/2 pounds of chocolate. That would add up to thirteen of them. How can that be? Why are the Brits buying their kids so much freaking chocolate for Easter? Are they trying to find one thing that they can out-do the US at? How about they pick something else? Something not quite so gluttonous? Or something that could possibly be attained. Trying to out-do the United States at overeating would be the equivalent of trying to out-do Tiger Woods at cocktail waitress banging. It's (sadly) just not going to happen. U-S-A! U-S-A!!

The article says that "...the 15 to 19 age group weighs in with 11 (eggs) each" but "the 40 to 59-year-olds and over-75s have the lowest consumption, with an average of just one." So, these folks are buying pounds and pounds of chocolate for their kids, but limiting their own egg consumption to just one? That seems...counterintuitive at best. They give their kids tons of chocolate eggs, but consume the absolute minimum themselves. I'm still noodling through why this would be. Soft, soft headed individuals is what I'm guessing. Whatever the answer, it certainly isn't rooted in anything rational or justifiable.

We also learn that "Seven out of 10 parents have adopted the American tradition of holding a 'hunt the Easter egg' event for their children." First of all, it's an Easter egg hunt. If you're going to adopt it, at least call it by its given name. Second, we're absolutely not hunting for half pound chocolate eggs. The outdoor Easter egg hunts that I participated in as a small child involved real eggs! They were hard-boiled (because it would have just been weird otherwise) and dyed different colors, but they were real eggs. In addition to the real eggs, there were also those colored plastic eggs that you could put like ONE tiny chocolate egg inside of. Again, if you're going to adopt something, try to keep our wacky ways in tact, would you? Thanks.

I don't know what to think about all of this (other than next year right before Easter, it might be time for me to invest some money by buying some sort of confectionery stocks or glucose meters). Five an a half pounds of chocolate in one day. Even when I was a little kid and that would have sounded like an appealing event to partake in, I highly doubt I could have done it without some sort of reversal of fortune occurring before the end of the day.

Large As A Barge

Everyone needs to have a goal, right? Sure. That explains why a woman in New Jersey in on a quest to become the world's fattest woman. Weight. Wait. What now?

Correct. The world's fattest woman. That's a goal. And let me tell you, PT Barnum is spinning in his grave right about now. Meet Donna Simpson and her table full of food that will kill you. Behold!

I'm loving the red tablecloth. As if that is going to make this massive McDonald's buffet for one somehow seem more elegant. (It's not, by the way.) Ms. Simpson is aspiring to become the world's fattest woman. She's definitely already sealed her place as the world's most ill-intentioned woman, but let's just see where she's headed with this other goal of hers, shall we?

Currently, Ms. Simpson is enormous. She is tipping the scales (probably at the truck stop) at an incredible 550 pounds. Now, granted, I wrote this last night, so she's gotta be at least 555 or 560 by now from what I can tell. According to Guinness, she is the heaviest woman to have ever given birth. (Mind you, Guinness only follows these records for humans, otherwise it might be a jowel to jowel race between her and a blue whale.) But that's not "good" enough for her. No, she wants to completely eat up the competition (literally, I fear) and become the world's fattest woman. That's her goal. To be really, really fat. Um, OK?

No. No, it's not OK. It's not OK on several levels. First of all. Look at this woman. Look! Behold!

That's not good. That's not good for anyone. It's not good for her. It's not good for that scooter. It's not good for anyone wanting to get past her. It's all bad. Bad, I tell you. Bad. Aside from all of that wrongness, can you come up with one argument against my stating that I believe her to be mentally ill? Who does something like that? Someone with a mental problem, that is correct.

Ms. Simpson (why is it so hard for me to use the term "Ms" with this woman? Then again, why is it so difficult for me to use the term "woman" with this woman?) has a boyfriend and two children by said boyfriend. The boyfriend, a one Phillippe Gouamba, must be equally mentally ill, as she claims that he is a "belly man" and that encourages her weight gain. However, I have noticed that in all of the interviews with her and all of the article written about her, that he is never directly quoted. I don't know if he is able to speak for himself. Perhaps she ate him in her quest for to be the largest female ever. But we never hear directly from him, so keep that in mind.

I'm sure her children are just beaming with pride over this. They're definitely thinking of all of the things that they'll be able to get away with, considering that their mother can't go more than twenty feet without becoming winded. Thus, she uses a motorized scooter to get around most of the time. (Who makes a scooter than can carry that sort of a load? I'm guessing that they must be the same company that makes those indestructible black boxes on airplanes.) Let's take a gander at the happy family, shall we? Behold!

Um, OK then. Is her son a cartoon? He looks like Nipsey Russell on crack. What's up with that? Look, I realize that I shouldn't be mocking the children. This will probably be the last time that I do so. But really, I feel sorry for them because they're going to go the majority of their life without a mother as I'm sure that she will meet an early demise due to what she is doing to her body. Of course, that's just my opinion. Ms. Simpson, I'm sure it won't surprise you to learn, doesn't believe that extra weight has anything to do with health problems. OK, then. Good luck with that.

Say, are you moving around OK there, ma'am? You know, people that do not weigh as much as a blue ribbon heifer at the country fair are actually able to walk more than twenty feet under their own power. You know, people that do not have the girth of an airplane hangar don't need a motorized scooter to facilitate their own mobility. I'm thinking your ridiculous weight does impact your health. It certainly impacts your lifestyle.

Whenever I hear these stories of people that are really pushing the limits of what the human skin can contain, I always wanted to know one thing. How in the world are they paying for all of this food? That was the question that I thought that I wanted to know. I learned today that while I thought that I wanted to know, I really did not. I did not want to know. That's because I learned that Ms. Simpson pays for her average $750 weekly grocery bill by receiving payments on her website from people who fork over their cash for the "privilege" of watching her eat. Oh. My. God.

I've always said that if there is one thing that the Internet is good at, it is that is makes it so that whoever you are and whatever you're into, you know that you are not alone in this world. Clearly, if Ms. Simpson is making AT LEAST $750 a week from weirdos out there who want to PAY cash money (legal tender, for cryin' out loud!) to watch her eat, there is someone out there that can relate to you no matter what you're into. Then again, I pay money to go to the zoo. That doesn't mean that I'm turned on by the animals. All that means is that I find them fascinating to watch. I'm going to hope that the folks whole are paying money to watch this cuckoo bird eat are in the same category as folks who go to the zoo.

As I cannot fathom what this woman is actually thinking, I'm going to have to speculate wildly and assume that she is hoping for some kind of fame that would come along with being the world's fattest woman. After all, Manuel Uribe, the world's fattest man, has himself a TV show. Yeah, the last time that I watched that, it was essentially a documentary on how to wash a fat man. (It's just what it sounds like. It's a huge ordeal, it takes hours and yes, it does involve a rag on a stick.) But before you go all thinking how great it would be to have your own TV show, let's just remember that a) your show is called "World's Fattest Man", and b) you're the world's fattest man! Also, Manuel Uribe hasn't left his bed under his own power for at least seven years. (He did get married a couple of years ago, but he was on the back of a flatbed truck. You decide how you feel about that.)

This woman clearly has issues. She seems to have some sort of a desire to be loved and/or wanted by the masses (not being her own, of course) . I'm not quite sure if she realizes that, by going public with her "goal" to be the world's fattest woman, she will undoubtedly receive attention that will be less than what I'd call positive. Of course, she will blow that off as a hatred of fat people (which it's not). Has she thought about the fact that she has a 3-year old daughter that she can't keep up with at 550 (or 555 or 560) pounds and that she'll likely be bedridden at 1,000 pounds? Apparently not. She doesn't seem to be able to think past her next 27 orders at McDonald's. It's hard to know what to hope for here. The obvious thing would be that she comes to her senses and applies for The Biggest Loser. But since that's not going to happen anytime soon, do I hope that she doesn't croak it before she makes it to 1,000 pounds? I guess I do, but I'm open to options. It's just too bad that she isn't.

And to see Ms. Simpson in all of her glory, click here. But let me just warn you first, it's NOT pretty! You might want to have some eye bleach handy. No one warned me! Consider yourself appropriately warned. It's too late for me, but you might be able to save yourself if you know what you're in for.