Fat people are happy people. You must be joking. Let's get a bit of frankness happening here.
1. Ever tried to sit for two hours in an economy-air seat at 15 stone plus? Sheer torture. 3. Just imagine the degree of difficulty that the surgeon confronts when operating. How many scalpels go blunt?
Several years ago I gave up smoking. Yeah, I started to put on weight but thought, one challenge at a time, right? Then one day, with toileet paper in hand, I found it difficult to reach the target area. I then realised that, as I was getting wider around the torso, my arms weren't growing any longer. If this trend continued I wouldn't be able to wipe my bum. It scared the shit out of me, so to speak. I quickly lost some weight so it wasn't a problem.
Some years ago at another job a fat lady had her employment terminated because of her terrible body odour. She suffered from the same short arm syndrome and tried to mask the smell by drenching herself in cheap perfume. The combination left us gagging.
So, fat people who can't reach their own bums happy - yeah, ecstatic.

JG/FME