Oprah Doesn't Care How You Feel

This week finds me dipping into the Oprah collective yet again, but unlike my last post, this one isn't very funny -- in fact, it's down right depressing. Why? Well, as you all know, I've been reading the Oprah magazine lately trying to find that special bit of information that might change my life for the better. It's been difficult because most of the articles are written for women, and, as I'm sure you're aware, I'm a dude. Regardless of Oprah's gender bias, I've continued reading, skipping past all of the articles about my vagina this, and my vagina that, until I found some information that pertained to the male gender. Needless to say, I didn't find anything dude-related until I picked up a copy of Road & Track, but I did stumble across a rather troublesome article on female body issues, one of which I have as well. Let's share!

Muffin Top

I love all types of muffins (except bran) and now that I know this is a human condition, I guess I love human muffins, too... Anyway, for those of you that look like Jennifer Aniston or Brad Pitt, you will not know what a human muffin top is, so allow me to enlighten you. HMTS (Human Muffin Top Syndrome) happens when you wear a human-sized paper muffin holder that's several sizes too small causing your fat waist to spill out in a seething, jiggling mass. In other words: what I look like right now. According to Adam Glassman, Oprah's creative director, the scientific definition is:

Excess stomach, hip, and back chub that hangs over the top of a too-tight waistband (a.k.a. love handles, spare tire).

While the Oprah magazine isn't a peer reviewed academic journal, I'm surprised that the copy and content editor didn't raise an eyebrow upon reading the word "chub" as a descriptor. As far as I'm concerned, chub will always mean a semi-erect penis, which only makes sense if you're in junior high school. I'm also surprised that no one thought chub sounded too much like C.H.U.D., which is a terrible movie with an excellent title. Perhaps the biggest problem I have with using chub as a descriptor for fat in a magazine that claims to empower women is that it is the written equivalent of curb-stomping one's self-esteem.

While Glassman and I have semantic differences regarding the definition, we both share the same solution for this terrible dilemma. Start by tightly covering every inch of your torso with plastic wrap and then apply a layer of duct tape for good measure. Breathing and movement will be severely restricted making that daily trip to the bathroom and Burger King nearly impossible, but rest assured that you'll look great in a bikini in three years (one year if you remove your thyroid).

Thanks, Oprah. I feel much better now.

Cannibalistic Humanoid Underground Dweller:
Don't worry, it's a compliment.