Why is America so chubby? I’ll tell you why. It’s because of this dude, Timer. Look at him. Now look away. Now look back at him but pretend like you’re looking at something else. Did you see him? He’s grotesque, isn’t he? He’s like a little fat tumor with legs. Somehow, he was the star of a handful of “Eat Healthy Kids” commercials back in the day. Oh, I should have put a comma between healthy and kids. “Eat Healthy, Kids”. That’s better. I’m not accusing him of advocating cannibalism. Although I think we can all agree healthy kids probably taste better than sickly kids, but that’s just common sense…Sorry, I got sidetracked… it happens. Anyways, this commercial was the most popular of the bunch, and it was on all the time. I mean All…The…Time.. So one day after school, Lil’ Bill was famished from a particularly hard day of recess. Not so much morning recess, that was enjoyable. But afternoon recess was a bitch. Lotta dodging balls that day. Anyways, good ol’ Timer shows up on the tv and says to me, he says,”Hey Bill, you’re hungry right?”. ” Eat this wagon wheel of cheese.” So I did, and I loved it. I became hooked. From that day on, whenever I was even the slightest bit hungry, I would eat exorbitant amounts of various exquisite cheeses, both imported and domestic. It didn’t matter to me if the cheese was in hunk, slab, slice, and/or chunk form. I just couldn’t stop, and I just didn’t care. It’s a disease. A deadly and delicious disease. It made socializing awkward. I couldn’t tell you the number of times I’d be at a cookout and the chef would ask, “Do you want a hamburger or cheeseburger, Bill?”. I would instinctively reply,”I’ll have a Cheeseburger, please, thank you very much. I’m quite hungry”. The telltale, textbook sign of a junkie. Always jonesing for the next fix whilst remaining extremely polite and effusively grateful. But I quickly started spiraling out of control. When I could no longer afford the expensive “designer” cheeses, I started buying processed cheese foods and spray cheeses. I’d go through big boxes of Velveeta like they were small boxes of Velveeta. Soon I hit rock bottom. I started stealing cheeses from friends and loved ones. Oh, it was just a slice here or there at first. I would pretend to get a bottle of water from the fridge and pocket a Kraft Single or two. Maybe I’d do a quick bump of parmesan cheese if no one was looking. Soon it was whole pounds of freshly purchased cheeses disappearing from countless fridges of the people I supposedly loved…. I was a trainwreck….. There was no stopping me. I was ashamed of, and sickened by, the monster I’d become. Then I woke up one day and had an epiphany. I looked at myself in the mirror and I said to myself,”Myself… cut the shit”, and the shit was cut. Shortly thereafter I started smoking crack, and lost interest in cheese or any other food entirely. So that might have helped.
Either way, problem solved.