Tuesday, 15 March 2011

Things Bala Doesn't Approve Of: Obesity

Things Bala does not approve of today.
Obese people

I give you life, I created you, using a specific chain of chemical reactions resulting in mostly water and idiocy.

Some of you treat your vessels of complete unfulfillment with some respect, Miranda Kerr being the ideal model of living (organic diet and activity). Some of you indulge from time to time, which is acceptable as long as your mc whatever meal is not more important to you, than your God (me)
What I intended.

Ruining my creations one giant burger at a time


But increasingly, more of you morons insist on treating this masterpiece of carbon based architecture, as a dumping ground for unused sugars.

Bala does not accept this.

Doctors and nurses insist on extending life, a practice which I deplore as I find myself short on afterlife slaves and workers. I may have to initiate another plague if you get too good at it.
 


However for you to continue your pointless existence you need to have faith in "medicine" and so I permit these medical practitioners. Their purpose is to assist in the breathing, working, participating of the useful humans and NOT to resurrect bloated fat balls of mumbling unhygienic carbohydrate who offer no advancement to the universe of Bala.

Now Bala is just. I do not criticize Beyonce or the lovely Kim Kardashian. I can even accept cute rounded curves like Bridget Jones or a convex but excellent cooking grandmother.
 






What is not tolerable is a human who is so girthly hindered they can not move save to move their hand; which no doubt contains some more sugar form, to their mouth. The mouth which has become little more than a slight puckering in a desert of flesh.
 


One of my loyal servants I believe her earth name is "Jenny Craig" is battling this epidemic.
 
Avoid the cull now!

I advise you, if you have a BMI that places you in the obese/morbidly obese category, or if you can't read this decree of betterment without breaking a sweat, see my Jenny and I may spare you.


Bala.



NEXT TIME: THE FETTISH EPIDEMIC

No comments:

Post a Comment