Fame is Gonna Cost You

Have you heard about Donna Simpson? She’s the woman who’s trying to become the fattest woman in the world.

Right now, she’s in the 600-pound range, up from the 532 pounds she weighed three years ago when she gave birth to her daughter.

Her Baby Daddy, who she says is “a belly man,” is a scrawny little thing who weighs a mere 150 pounds.

I need to picture slaughtered hogs just to stop thinking about how in the hell he actually managed to get her pregnant. It’s like a male Chihuahua with an obese English Mastiff.

Obviously, where there’s a will, there’s a way. Prolly a step stool had to be used, at least for the Chihuahua.

To accomplish her goal of becoming one-ton Tessie, Ms. Simpson eats 12,000 calories a day. She loves sushi, she says, and eats 70 pieces at a sitting. So much food is expensive, of course, but she has men who love to buy her dinner. People actually pay $11 to download a video of her eating. Or you can join her fan club for $15 a month.

The only thing that might keep her from reaching such a weighty goal she says, is “running” around after her daughter.

Or dying.

Why, I keep wondering, would a woman want that title? I realize that people will do crazy things to be noticed, but I can think of some attainable titles for the average woman that wouldn’t jeopardize her health, land her in jail, or involve giving birth.

How about Woman with the Most Screws Loose? The diaper astronaut would be the likely frontrunner if she hadn’t been disqualified by a felony, although Jon Gosselin’s girlfriends, any of them, probably have a good shot at this title.

Woman whose picture is posted most often on PeopleofWalmart.com. This is not to be confused with the Fashion Police section of Us Magazine. Those are celebrities dressed like People of Walmart. There would be some serious competition for this title, but it’s definitely winnable.

Woman Who Dresses Completely in Duct Tape. This one would be helpful for anyone interested in attracting a Tin Man.

World Noodling Chamption. Noodling is the sport of fishing with the bare hands. It involves muddy, snake-infested water and cramming a fist down a fish’s throat. Not exactly my cup of chai, but it beats eating 70 pieces of sushi or dating Jon Gosselin.

Thank God, I can’t muster enough desire for fame (or infamy) to do something crazy. And I think most women feel the same way. In fact, when it comes right down to it, I believe most women have a pretty clear distinction between what they require and desire. Happiness, it turns out, boils down to a pretty simple list.

It reminds me of a woman I heard about several years ago.

Picture a chain-smoking 80-year-old with skin like a piece of shoe leather and bleach-blonde hair. She’s driving around in a big white Cadillac and chain smoking with the windows rolled up. That’s our girl. Her theory of life went something like this:

“No woman can live on less than $100 a day. Every day, she needs a pack of cigarettes, a tank of gas, a bottle of wine, and a present for herself.”

Okay, and maybe in some cases, a step stool.