One time I was visiting my xenophobic grandfather in the small town from whence I came and found myself wandering in his yard that suddenly seemed so much smaller than it should have been.

As I strolled about the dilapidated barn he uses to store moderately dangerous and unidentifiable equipment so that grandchildren have something difficult to fetch for him, I was approached by one of his obese neighbors. After a brief exchange of small talk, he abruptly lifted up his Patriots jersey, revealing a wide swath of translucent stomach skin, and asked me if I thought he was fat "because the mayor says he is." That was not an awesome image, nor was it pleasing. Have a wonderful day!