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A small segment of our population seems obsessed with diet and exercise, and I just can’t see the point. In the unhealthiest sections of our country, mainly the rural South, men only live to be about 67. However, in affluent enclaves, the male life expectancy jumps to the 80s. My problem is I can’t fathom why in the hell anyone would want to live to be in their 80s.

To me, 67 seems just about right for a life expectancy. You made it to retirement and then you kicked the bucket before your meager savings were exhausted. That’s just smart planning.

We all know people who exercise five times a week, agonize about what they eat and read product ingredient labels like they’re Champollion trying to decipher the Rosetta Stone. Have they ever really stopped and thought about the implications of all this sacrifice?

I eat a diet comprised solely of meat, bread and alcohol, and these health nuts are only going to live 10 or 20 years more than me. Since we don’t live in a bad sci-fi novel, we don’t age in reverse. Even if you eat right and exercise, you’re not exactly getting extra prime years here. You’ll still be old and gross, and even your own kids will despise you.

You’ll tell rambling stories that go nowhere, drive 10 miles under the speed limit, and make desperate small-talk with anyone who’ll listen. If you’re lucky, you’ll find yourself caged in some rest home staring at a tv and waiting for a phone call that will never come.

My advice is to sell your treadmill and buy a good liquor cabinet. It’s a lot more fun and makes a hell of a lot more sense in the long-run.

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