I Like To Eat Pancakes!

I know I said “No Maury” to “Maury”, but today I just had to succumb and indulge. I really had no choice, given today’s subject matter. After all, I am powerless against the intoxicating allure of the obese toddler. The attraction is deliciously magnetic. I am drawn to the chunk children like they are drawn to pizza pie, snack cakes, and everything else that attaches itself to their hammy hands as readily as a static-charged sock to a big red balloon.
You haven’t lived until you’ve seen a shirtless, barefoot, 140-pound four-year-old fucking up the words to “Old MacDonald Had A Farm” and shouting into a wireless microphone, “I like to eat pancakes!”
My only real concern, however, is this: Why do these porcine pre-schoolers have to parade around in such revealing clothing? Most of their outfits involved the skimpiest of shorts (I swear one two-year-old girl was wearing terrycloth shorts with “Juicy” on her rump), no shirt (except for the “Juicy” two-year-old and one other particularly busty girl), and bare feet. I mean, sure, that’s a sexy look and all, but come on, it’s autumn now. And even the blubberiest of babies needs a little insulation to shield him, if not from cold ridicule then from the chill of an October morning.
I am going to boycott “Maury” until they start dressing these fat babies in fisherman’s sweaters. And this time I mean it.