Every Monday, I go to a water aerobics class at the health spa (doesn't that sound swanky compared to 'da gym'?).

I really appreciate this aerobics class for a number of different reasons. I'm allowed to see that cellulite comes in all manner of shapes and sizes. I'm permitted to swim with old fat ladies who wear rubber swimcaps. Sometimes, I pretend I'm Ginger Rogers until I start to heave from exertion. Additionally, the old fat ladies tend to bring their old fat husbands along. Many of the old fat husbands wear bright gold chains over their slooping breasts and guts. At times, I feel like I'm in a Mob movie, except all the gangsters stopped drinking and just started pounding macaroni and cheese. The fitness instructor herself is rotund and allows me to see that some fat people are just fat--not unhealthy. It concerns me that she has myriad questions about Probation; regardless, she doesn't laugh at me when I've straddled a noodle and somehow fallen off of the damn thing.

I forget my point...oh, yeah!

The other benefit to this class is that all these fat old ladies with their fat old husbands are die hard Southern Baptists. During the first class, I was informed about Catholic Preists going straight to hell and burning there. Last time, we discussed the importance of showing women ultrasound pictures of an unborn child before aborting the fetus. I was loving that topic. It made me kick a little too hard and soaked one woman's platinum blonde beehive. Oops!

But my favorite conversation was how the court systems are now protecting the criminals and not the innocent victims.
"They get televisions in jail!" screamed one lady as she padded her white fleshy thigh through a styrofoam loop.
"They are allowed to worship other religions instead of just Christianity!" said a floppy redhead with gray roots.
"They rape, murder, and pillage, and then get attorneys! My son cut his foot on a construction site, and HE can't get an attorney!" gasped the two-peice flowered swimsuit with the second stomach.
"Well," I said as I peddled forward underwater, forearm fat flapping against the waves, "if it is any consolation, here in fabulous Cobb county the jail is so overcrowded they sleep on the floor. One guy even died of medical neglect--a blood clot shot through his leg and he died in a puddle of blood. Does that make you feel better?"
There was brief silence except for the sloshing of water and the sound of distant farting coming from the whirlpool, where the fat husbands and their tacky gold chains were relaxing.
"God always gets ya," said the blonde.

Yeah. I guess God will always get ya. You bitch.

Anyway, here's an example of a protected criminal. Be warned! Small children should be locked in a closet before you see the picture...