When You Win You Lose

Did you know San Antonio was ranked 3rd fattest city by the CDC this year? I didn't either until I looked it up just now, but I should have been able to guess it by the Christmas shopping I've been doing the past few days.
   Don't get me wrong, I love my home town. But damn... we got some big fat suckers here. Usually in SoCal I see a big fat sucker or two once a day. And I mean someone 300+ pounds, sometimes waddling on foot sometimes on their straining-to-roll Rascal. But here in SA if you go out anywhere - and I mean ANYWHERE - you're going to see several morbidly obese people, sometimes whole families, more jiggling flesh than can safely board an elevator. I started counting but after I got to ten (or thirty chins) in about half an hour I got so discouraged I stopped.
   This ain't right. This is not a title to aspire to, nor is it something to be proud of. We need to slim down, San Antonio. Not after the holidays, not when you get around to it, right now.
   I'm not the world's most svelte person, but I'm positively emaciated compared to some of these Shamus I've seen recently. And, yes, I'm being unkind, because they're grotesquely fat and telling people it's a 'lifestyle choice' to have a body fat percentage of 50% to 60% is nothing short of terminal. Put the fork down, you ridiculous, sweating, stretch-pants-wearing sons of bitches.
   And, lest anyone accuse me of elitism, let me clue you in on something. My father weighed well over 300 pounds when he had a heart attack and died. He was not eight feet tall. His trigylicerides were over 400, when a normal number is around 100. Or less. He was an undiagnosed diabetic who never addressed his condition. If he had even tried to take care of himself he'd probably be alive right now, and given the longevity of his mother and her side of the family he probably had another 15 years in him. But he was one of the SA obese. And he died because of it. And all you big fat suckers are going to die because of it too. Yeah, I'm more than a little pissed, and if you take exception to that, challenge me to a foot race. If you can run more than three steps and can catch me, you can sit on me.
   So shape the fuck up, San Antonio. If you're not going to do it for yourself, do it because I'm being a total unsympathetic asshole about it and you want to throw it in my face. Or do it for the families your untimely death is going to leave behind. Or do it because you saw Jesus in the tortilla that's slowly clogging your arteries. But do it.