I get why New Jersians like the fat blustery guy routine. In an age of stiff, over-programmed, cyborgs like John Carney and Tom Carper moving stiffly and guardedly across the public stage, the fat blustery guy is a breath of fresh air. Like a bowl of chocolate chip mint ice-cream after nothing but white bread toast and saltines.
Nevertheless, you can’t bluster away facts. The fat man is more likely to have a stroke. The fat man is more likely to drop dead of a heart attack. The fat man is driving up your health insurance rates with his undisciplined, devil-may-care approach to the buffet table.
Just as we know that “cutting taxes on business” has never helped the economy – the fat bluster guy should never be mistaken for a healthy person. Facts are facts.