My friend Ben is extremely overweight—over 400 pounds. He’s always on some ridiculous diet to shed his excess fat. Right now he’s only eating apples and canned tuna fish.
I told him if he really wanted to reduce his “weight” just wait until the Moon was directly overhead and he would “weigh” less because the gravitational pull of the Moon would be pulling up on his body.
“That’s awesome!”, Ben said then asked, “How much would I weigh then?”
I answered, “Oh…about…three hundred and ninety-nine point nine nine eight.”
“Oh—not enough to make a difference,” he gloomily responded as he bit into a over ripened green apple.
“Hey man, just think. In twenty years, I’m sure NASA will have a lunar colony. If you moved there, you would only weigh 67 pounds. You would still be big as fuck, but have the weight of an eight year old.”
“Fuck you!”
