Have a Heart, Xtina

Christina Aguilera is no longer fat. There, I’ve finally admitted it.

For three months since she debuted a slimmer figure on “The Voice,” I hoped the weight loss was a phase. Maybe her current boy toy forgot to buy her weekly bag of Cheetos. Or a mega roll of sugar cookie dough complete with little sugar dough baby. But no, the traitor didn’t forget once, or twice. He forgot for several months, the bastard.

Would I ever watch Xtina belt out “At Last” with “self-tanner” running down her leg again? What about her wrecked blonde weave as she writhed in a bandage leotard, looking like she stuck her finger in an electric socket?

To my delight, I can still have all of that – minus the extra calories. I’m glad Christina is a healthy weight again, since the extra pounds may have put her at risk of heart disease, the number one killer of women in America. More than 42 million women in this country currently live with it everyday – and often go undiagnosed or treated, leading to more early deaths than men. These women could prevent or lessen the affects of heart disease by working out, eating right, and maintaining a healthy weight.

Now I didn’t mean to get all Dr. Joanne on you. I just don’t want Christina to die, because then how will I be able to make fun of her?

This, my friends, is the only reason I’m supporting my sister Evamarie Spataro’s American Heart Association Walk on September 22, 2012. She needs to raise $300 by September 15. I told her I’m only doing this for Xtina, not her, and she said I'm the worst sibling in America.

I’m not sure what Eva meant by that last part, but please heed my warning: Don’t sit back while Christina Aguilera inevitably gains the weight back, putting herself at risk for a coronary. Give her a reason to keep working out, to fit into those horrible denim cut-offs and American flag cardigan.

Please give all of your quarters to Eva's cause here: http://heartwalk.kintera.org/charlottenc/evamariespataro

From the bottom of Xtina’s cookie dough-filled heart, thank you.

The Fabulous Kakapo - Randy Overeaters!

   

I don’t usually play the “What kind of animal are you?” game. Taking a quiz to see whether I’m a ferocious lion or a mole with tiny eyes doesn’t add to my life. Then I read a scathing article in The Daily Mail (is there any other kind?). The article’s writer sounded like a stage mother claiming her daughter is too fat. That’s where I learned about my bird doppelganger, the Kakapo. The female Kakapo is an endangered, flightless bird in New Zealand that likes alone time, becomes randy from overeating, and only gets busy every two years. If someone wanted to interview me about my habits, I would say, “Read this Kakapo article and get back to me.”

    

Our 27th President
WilliamHoward Taft
wants in your pants.

The Kakapo wants to love you...
every two years, baby.

While the mossy green-feathered Kakapo (or “night parrot”) and I would be awesome roommates, Mail paints our fabulous qualities as flaws. The article title smacks of old school imperialism: “Do some animals DESERVE to go extinct? The parrot that can’t fly, mistakes predators for mates and only wants sex every two years.” Geez, why don’t you tell everyone that we don’t wash our hair every day too? Way to make an endangered species feel even more down on itself.

 First off, lady Kakapos don’t always need a roll in the, uh, leaves. Sure, the male Kakapo has urges and gets blocked up (see this video of one getting frisky with a conservationist’s neck), but we have standards. Do you know what a male kakapo looks like? That's right, our 27^th President William Howard Taft. Even the BBC reporter in that video describes a male Kakapo as “old-fashioned… with his big sideburns and his Victorian gentleman’s face.” Is that what you want, our 27^th president or an old Victorian dude amorously chasing you around? Maybe I’m going to the wrong nightclubs, but if I had a dime for every time this has happened to me…

Overeating, not bushy mustaches, get us in the mood. Mail says, “Conservationists discovered that the more females are fed, the more horny they will become.” Amen to that! But our aphrodiastic can’t be just any food. Kakapos, like me, have specific dietary needs. They eat fruits from the rimu tree, which comes into season once every four years. I’m like that with cherries. They’re a whopping $4.99 per pound during the winter and an affordable $2.99 in the summer. So for one season of the year, I enjoy bowls and bowls of cherries. After I’ve eaten too many, I am guaranteed to make a pass at you. I apologize in advance for spitting red juice on your neck.

Jujubee: Kakapo Pride!

Since only 127 Kakapos exist in the world, there’s more pressure to make babies. Mail says “the chubby, land-bound parrot is so uninterested – and hopeless – at mating.” Maybe that’s because you keep calling them fat. Plus, wouldn’t you be lacking in the bedroom if humans were destroying your house to build a Super Wal-Mart? Kakapos are the original anti-corporation hipsters. They lay their eggs in rotten trees and don’t eat food unless it’s locally-grown. Bohemian-chic seekers pay good money to make their homes resemble the dankness of a forest.


I decided Mail (gasp) was a hater and perhaps (second gasp) not entirely factual. So I did some research. To my delight, “The Fabulous Kakapo” webpage is aptly named with solid, albeit slightly outdated, information. The best of the best, New Zealand’s Department of Conservation website, calls us “an eccentric parrot which can live for decades” and a “unique treasure.” That’s what I’m talking about. We are as beloved as Madonna, Cher, or that fierce drag queen who should have won “RuPaul’s Drag Race” (we will never forget, JuJubee).

It’s not easy being green, especially with Mail ruffling our feathers (my last cheap bird joke). Although 11 bird babies were born in 2011, Kakapos are still critically endangered. We’re not rolling mad deep, but we do have a rotten tree clubhouse stocked with rare fruits. When someone asks, “What kind of animal are you?” you proudly say, “I’m a flightless, endangered bird who will go to town on you after too many nachos!”