This blog is all about religion and South Park – either together or individually. However, I would like to make you aware of my newest project, called More of Me to Love. More of Me to Love is a health community for people of all sizes, but particularly for larger people. I’d like to invite you to take a look and check it out.

As More of Me to Love’s homepage says:

More of Me to Love helps people achieve healthier and happier lives by successfully instilling simple and effective nutrition and fitness habits – and for free! In short, members learn to feel good and be healthy.

More of Me to Love is NOT a diet or a weight loss program.

Studies show that people can be healthy at any size if they think positively, eat nutritiously and live actively. Our community of experts and members provides the support, information and encouragement necessary to realize that having more of you to love is just one of the great things about you.

Check it out HERE.

Being the always considerate, caring, warm-hearted (and only occasionally sarcastic) person that I am, I figured it would be helpful to you, my dear, insensitive readers – if I provided a brief lesson on ways to call someone a “lard-ass” without the risk of overstepping bounds of common decency.

Lesson one: Use specific anatomical/physiological terms instead of offensive slang

Example: “look at that fat ass dude!” becomes “please join me in observing the person with an XY chromosome pattern and an adipose tissue-dominant posterior”

Lesson two: Never – EVER – point and laugh at someone just because they can eat you for breakfast.  Instead, find some quality other than physical size to laugh at.  Traditional alternatives such as race, religion, gender, political affiliation, IQ or disfigurations of the reproductive organs are always acceptable.

Example: Michael Moore is not fat.  He’s just a tree-hugging satanic liberal hermaphrodite. 
(See? Doesn’t that sound so much nicer than saying he’s a “fat-ass piece of sh*t”?)

Lesson three:  If you do get caught saying something which could be misconstrued as inappropriate or offensive regarding one’s larger-than-life physical stature, follow the Don Imus approach: Lay low for a couple months and then resurface as if nothing ever happened.  Time heals all wounds.

Before the hate mail comes rolling in, let me remind you that in my power-lifting days, I was a 300+ pound lump o’ crap.  While at the time, I held firmly to the delusion that it was all muscle, the few remaining pictures would tell otherwise.  Heck, even when I was a kid, I always had to wear the “husky boy” jeans from Sears.