Snickers vs. Twix

One of the main things I miss from my alcoholic days are the conversations I had with my fellow bottle huggers. Birds of a feather & what not. To a room full of sober people, a drunk dude is just rambling about pseudo-metaphysical aspects of life that equate to ambient jibber jabber. But, a gaggle of booze hounds, espousing about the wonders of the world, is a think tank unlike any other. How many things do you think were invented by some drunk ass guys just pontificating about nothing in particular. Like aluminum foil. That has "sloshed" written all over it. & the vacuum cleaner. You can't tell me liquor played no part in somebody thinking, "well, how 'bout we just suck it up?"


I'd always said I was going to videotape one of our clubhouse meetings, but then I'd get drunk & forget. The closest I've gotten to those caliber conversations post-addiction was in the breakroom at rehab. Really though, shit got hella heavy sometimes. Had the free coffee been caffeinated, it may have turned bloody once or twice.


Back to my couch.


Although debates over Halo or NBA Live were enthralling, all it took was for a chick to walk past the house, or even appear on the TV, & that became the day's topic of choice. Mainly, what's better, a skinny broad & a thickums? Again, drunkards tend to think outside the box, so needless to say, these exchanges often lasted until the wee hours of the morning. Or until my wife got home. Whichever came first.


Personally, I prefer a lady of the healthier persuasion. I've always equated girth with womanhood. Child bearing hips, ample, succulent breasts, a little arm fat, thighs that give the jeans something to hold on to, all scream "adult female." With a skinny chick, I'm always taken back to the days of elementary school, when the male/female physical attributes were about even. Pointy elbows, bird chests, flat asses, etc. Of course there was always the girl or two who'd developed early, but that anomaly was looked at as more freakshow, than freak show, if you smell my cologne. I believe women are works of art, regardless to specifications. But, when I see chicks who appear to have missed a meal, before I can admire their femininity, I have to get past the urge to offer them a cheese burger. Or a peanut butter sandwich. Where as, a skinny girl looks like she could use a meal, I know for a fact that not only will a thickums not go hungry, but she'll feed my yellow ass in the process. To my heart through my stomach, indeed.


When I say "skinny", I don't mean model anorexic. That's not skinny. Thats morbidly malnutritioned. Ain't shit natural about a woman weighing 97 lbs, unless she's 11 years old or Vietnamese. No shots. That's an eating disorder, or a disease waiting to put you in the earth, & either way, I'm not into bag ladies (word to Erykah Badu). I mean skinny, like "one-too-many-trips-to-the-gym-in-one-week" thin, which is not realistic in today's society of stress, fast food & busy lifestyles. Not being curvaceous & voluptuous doesn't take away from one's feminism, per se, it just doesn't appeal to me. & I consider myself an average joe.


It could be because of my family. The only skinny female relatives I have are that way because of drug addiction (pain pills & alcohol included). I grew up around the type of women who cooked, all the time. & if you appeared to be losing weight, before any of them would inquire about your health or sober status, they tried shoving a pot of gumbo & half a fried chicken down your gullet. I'll be the first to admit that this wasn't the healthiest situation, but what could I tell them that their diabetes medication hasn't already? I grew up under the impression that it was "normal" for a woman to have some meat on her bones, thus, that's what I've always been attracted to. I've even bypassed adorable skinny chicks in my days of chubby chasing, & knew exactly what I was doing.


& don't get me started on sex. That's kinda a no-brainer. Sure, I like a good Karma Sutra marathon like the next heterosexual male, but slim jim bonin' versus chubby lovin' might be one of the few times in life where it's quantity over quality. Cushion for the pushin', so to speak; the more of it, the merrier. I'm not an expert on skinny girl sex, but I'm pretty sure that a semi-exposed rib cage or spine protrusion wouldn't help my erection very much. But a cup that slightly runneth over? 'Nuff said.


Usually, by the end of our Snickers vs. Twix debates, it was a 50/50 split as to who preferred what. Which is probably the outcome in the real world as well. But I'll tell you what; the only season of 'America's Top Model' I ever watched was the one when Toccara won, & I think I voted for Jordan Sparks on 'American Idol', so, yeah.