Maybe it’s her laugh and that cute Southern accent. Maybe it’s her awesome banana bread recipe – that always turns out perfectly! Maybe it’s because she just reminds me of a grandmother I might crawl into the lap of, who probably smells sweet, and who always has great treats around. Maybe it’s all these things and more that make me feel really bad for Paula Deen.

I mean, yeah, we all “saw it coming” – but did we? Did we really? There are plenty of thin people out there who suffer from diabetes – and no, not the type 1 kind. Type 2. Halle Berry. Dick Clark. Um … I’m sure there’s others, but I don’t have time to google them at the moment. My point is, we can’t assume that all fat people just have it comin’ to them and not give a rat’s ass when they get sick. Cuz that would be unpatriotic. And mean. We all sat around and cried when Amy Winehouse died. Didn’t seem to matter that she was a rock star with piss poor self control around drugs and alcohol. Oh, wait. Some of us blamed her and said she had it comin’, too. Never mind.

Maybe I’m missing something here, but … I’m really sad that Paula Deen is diabetic. Now she’s going to be cutting out all the sweets and cooking all healthy on her show, which just doesn’t translate into my grandmother fantasy at all. Grandmothers don’t sit you down and hand you carrots to eat. Your parents do that. Grandparents have the cookies. And the twinkies. That’s their job. I’m pretty sure it’s in their contract.

I’m just saying.

I think we should be a little nicer to Paula Deen. And stop giving butter a bad name, because all grandparents know – butter is far healthier than margarine. It was probably all that sugar that did her in. And a sedentary lifestyle. And the smoking. Nah. She didn’t smoke. But she wasn’t exercising. She should have taken a few walks every day. But then, shouldn’t we all? I’ve been trying to do this damn 5K run for 2 years now.

That’s all I have for you tonight. I’m still recovering from my sickness, which is leaving my body but has currently taken up residency in my sinus cavity. If Paula Deen were here, she’d make me some yummy grilled cheese and tomato soup. And then probably ask me what these men talk about when they call.