This is your warning that you may have to do simple math in your head.
I equal slightly more than 2 obese alimartells.
In no shame to her, my pocket pal, alimartell, wrote about being fat-pinch measured as “obese” in all of her 104 pounds. I don’t care what the arbitrary charts and medical field jargon say about what is obese, what is normal, and what is underweight.
When an adult woman is roughly the size Justin Bieber, she is not obese.
I fit more on my plate at the Churrascaria* than what alimartell weighs.
The medical and health professionals can spout all the fat-to-body mass ratios they want, but if you can use the word “obese” do describe both mine and alimartell’s body conditions, there’s something wrong with the definition.
*If you are unfamiliar with a Churrascaria, it’s basically 1/2 massive buffet of deliciousness and 1/2 handsome Brazilian men walking around slicing off varieties of all-you-can-eat meat onto your plate. From here is where the term “Meat Sweats” was coined.