Oh god, I’m fat

I know it was you, Popeye. You broke my heart.In my on-going series of ways that Alabama is trying to kill me, I’ve learned that I’m a no-good fat fatty-fat fat-fat.

Those of you who may know me would be surprised, considering I’ve always seemed smaller than everyone else (except Chugs). But that’s exactly how it snuck up on me.

According to Time Magazine, Alabama ranks as not only one of the poorest, but also one of the fattest states (except Mississippi). Over 30% of this state’s population is obese because of fried food, gravy and a lack of grocery stores, sidewalks, bike lanes and public transportation (gotta walk to bus stops).

Because so many people around me are obese, I didn’t even notice my weight gain. No matter how big I got, I looked “normal.” And, according to CNN, even Old Navy may have conspired against me by marking larger cloths with smaller measurements! So my waist size hasn’t really been 30 this whole time!

So, when Alabama’s tornadoes and rising STD rates missed me, it resorted to the old fashioned way: diabetes and heart disease.

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