Last night I caught up with one of my employed friends in the business.  By employed, I mean she has the pleasure of receiving benefits such as a bi-yearly teeth cleaning at minimal cost to her.  I still find myself in the company of others snaggle-toothed, the unemployed.  However, I like to say I’m freelancing, which means between breaks of discovery channel’s A Haunting  I design things for people, nice people.

So as I was talking to me friend who will not be named, she was lamenting at how she has (or he has) gained a lot of weight since starting school and chewing ‘er ( or ‘is) way to employment. And then it dawned on meself, wouldn’t one with the luxury of having another human pick at their teeth be considered o’thee wealthy, and isn’t it a reoccurring theme of the wealthy t’be fat.

In fact, I began to persuade her to wear her extra pounds with pride, and then I ‘appened to ask her if she ‘appened to be wearing a velveteen top hat, and long-tailed coat, and some tight red vertically-striped pants. Because although some extra bulk may be an adverse condition of counting one of the gainfully employed, impeccable fashion sense is not.