A Horrifying Experience This weekend I went on my usual grocery shopping trip. As I bring my basket to the checkout, I catch a glimpse of a horrible, bloated, rotting leg that was mostly covered in white patches of flaking skin. Its owner, a morbidly obese man, shuffled by with a walker. I assumed he was in his 70's due to his hunched posture and terrible skin condition. I used to work in a hospital, and I usually saw that type of awful flaking skin on elderly people close to death. As I am checking out, I see the man again in the next aisle, alongside a terrible sight. His face was that of a 20-something, buried under mountains of blubber. It was as though someone had photoshopped a young man's face onto the body of a fat, dying old man. Alongside him is an equally bloated woman about the same age. She was pushing a carriage with a pair of newborn twins. A veritable Macy's parade of assorted junk food rattled down the checkout conveyor belt as the man-whale struggled to gather the shopping bags and put them in a cart. Immediately, I am struggling to comprehend how this couple managed to successfully have sex and conceive. Then I stop struggling, because the mental image of these Hutts slapping their buttered fat roll crevasses together is just too horrible. All that is left is sadness. Those kids were fucked right from the beginning. They didn't even have a chance. They will be raised on nothing but Twinkies and Captain Crunch, swell up to their parents' size, and spend their short lives wondering what went wrong. They will probably end up raising hams of their own, if they manage to survive heart disease and diabetes. And then the cycle will go on. Needless to say, I grabbed my bags and got out of there as quickly as possible. Creating ham children should be child abuse. That is all.