Sugar on top of sugar
I’m so disgusted. A donut topped with Froot Loops. Who comes up with these gross concoctions? They’re probably sitting around in a big fancy board room wearing suits — “Hmm…I know, let’s top sugar with more sugar.” “Oh, and let’s add some fat to it.” They probably even have contest to see who can come up with the wildest creations.
Not sure if I’m more disgusted by the actual donut or the folks creating and promoting this type of sugary crap. I mean, really. Obesity is an epidemic here in America. Is anyone paying attention? Promoting unhealthy crap like this is really distasteful. Sure, people don’t have to buy it — and they should NOT buy it, but why even create such garbage? Oh yeah, to line their pockets. Not just their pockets, but in turn health insurance, hospitals, you get my drift. Disgusted by sugar on top of sugar.
Chrisetta Mosley
I am a product – and now a survivor – of childhood obesity. As a child, my family always told me that my extra weight was merely baby fat and I’d eventually grow out of it. I never did. Instead, my childhood is filled with memories of not being able to ride a bike, flattening its training wheels from being over the recommended weight, and avoiding P.E. classes by any means necessary. For years, I wore my fatness like a wounded soldier wears a Purple Heart - with pride. I owned the look. I dressed it up. I worked the room. There wasn't a skinny girl who intimidated me. I made sure my hair was laid just right. Nails polished. Outfits coordinated to the tee. Accessories to compliment every outfit. But everyone has a breaking point, and mine came in the spring of 2004 when I tipped the scale at nearly 400 pounds 388 to be exact. I was MISERABLE trapped inside of that body. I no longer wore my Purple Heart with pride. Rather, I was ashamed and frightened. Ashamed that I had allowed food to become my everything – frightened I would die because of it. Drastic times called for drastic measures... Today, I’m bound and determined to live a better, healthier, active lifestyle. I realize I’m no longer a passenger in my life, I’m the driver. I’m overcoming my inhibitions and I’m slowly but surely saying farewell to my old childhood nemesis, obesity. For once and for all, Farewell Fatso!