Musing upon the human condition...

That makes it sound so much more deep and philosophical than it actually is... I was actually applying eyeshadow and thinking sadly of the (now empty) bowl of caramel popcorn on the bench, and deciding that this is clearly why I cannot live in any other country, or indeed any other SUBURB to the amazing Suzukisinger, who not only popped the popcorn and coated it delicately in AMAZING caramel, but then amicably broke into my house (well, she has keys) and left a large bowl of it on the bench for my delectation. The note may have been addressed to Hubs AND I, but I choose to believe that the popcorn was clearly all for me. Oh, ok, I gave him some.

Yes. So I will clearly have to stalk her when she one day does decide to trade suburbs, because that caramel popcorn... well. Remember when I said a sister will give you her last piece of chocolate? I may have to amend that statement to include popcorn.

What was I blathering about?

OH! YES! Ok, so having decided that the optimal amount of caramel popcorn for me = quite a lot = happiness but ALSO = morbid obesity, I have stumbled across a new way to combat American obesity. I realise it won't catch on here, as we are an apathetically unpatriotic lot (although, if I could link it to football may do well, as football is basically our religion and people who hate it tend to be somewhat anarchic, paranoid and prone to eating disorders fast metabolisms).

Obesity is unpatriotic. Think of the incredible financial damage you are doing to your country by requiring all that extra healthcare. About the billions of dollars malls will be forced to spend importing JAPANESE technology like wider sliding doors and travelators that travel through the entire complex because the fatties can't walk through anymore.

Employ the boy next door as your personal trainer! Take out a megamart gym membership and drive your oil-guzzling hummer around more... because you'll be able to get through the door again! And when you're fit, you'll be able to participate in the most patriotic behaviour of all; dressing up for Halloween and going trick-or-treating. Oh, sorry. I meant, hooray! You'll be able to enlist in the army and fight for your country. Uncle Sam needs you... to lose weight.

Australians: you have it much simpler:

Girls: Fat chicks don't marry footy players. They're just booty calls for cricketeers.

Boys: You're never going to be a footy/cricket player weighing that much. There's a damn good reason they don't make microshorts in that size.