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Fat kids... FAT KIDS!!!

Normally, I don't give a ho-damn about fat kids. Even one of my best friends is fat! But here's where their problems become MY problems. And when stuff becomes my problem, it becomes everybody's problem.

See, in the days of old and lore (basically when my and most like your parents were small) fat kids were the teased minority of kid society. Pretty much, because times were rough and that coupled with the natural human behavior to avoid embarrassing yourself kept kids from becoming overweight. Very few fat kids got so because of vending machines and unhealthy cafeteria food. Yet another reason of that was because there was a such thing as recess and open lunch hours. Kids could exercise off their caloric intake so soon after they ate that it made little if any effect on their body and also steadied a fast metabolism. There were rarely such things as depression and self-abuse and all that bullshit.
If you were fat, you went home and cried. If you were still fat when you woke up, you went to school, got teased, and came home crying the blues again. Eventually you learned that you either had to ignore it or get skinny and did so. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH NO!! Now the effing government has to ******** up the natural order of things (and my snax) by implementing health plans and taking out vending machines. ******** that. If a kid gets a little chubby, you could possibly blame that on vending machines. If your child (or you) is obese, then that's your fault. You, as the child or the parent, should have better control over your diet. If you have boobs and a p***s all on the same body, something is wrong with you that you need to fix. If you count anything over one chin, something is wrong. If you get excited over dinner, you are ******** in the head. You can't blame computers, video games, cell phones, and s**t. A simple diet and exercise plan could combat all that. A good 40 years ago, there was almost no such thing as cutting, depression, and all that. Kids didn't come home and go "Oh, I got teased by some b***h with one eye, so I'm gonna jump off a building!" or "Oh, I got called fat by some stick thin model b***h with removed ribs so I'm gonna cut myself!" NO. That s**t all started when psychiatrists started giving terms to the different stages of bodily recognition. They just had to give them an excuse to stay fat. Couldn't let them go home and cry over it for awhile... Bastards. >>

tl;dr-GIMME MY EFFING SNAX BACK!!