And I love my jacked-up Cherokee. Little League, school friends, stroller, groceries, and miles of unimpeded vision on LA's "freeways of death to the too late to notice/brake from the can't-see-past-the-next-bumper view of a rice burner". Chubby or not.
Next thing you know they'll reduce our options, like other statist powers gone wrong:
Not chubby, all Trabi.