Right, I was walkng past a mirror one day in my favourite white striped blue shirt with dark blue cotton pants. I had my favourite (only decent) pair of sneakers on. I realised as I walked past that infernal self consciouness amplifier that I had boobs! And a huge Boob which others would call a belly. My goodness, that was frightening, maybe it also had to do with the fact i just ate.
Its not fair though, why do some people stuff themselves as if the food they eat did actually exist but still retain their idiotic figures? How do I? With only two and a half meals per day, find himself with a gelatinous face growing on his Greecian example of male beauty. Sigh.
Yes, right now most of my friends would probably be thinking, go excersise! Diet! Well, as most of my friends are walking skeletons or specimens of immortal beauty, devoid of all human blemishes, and are able to stay that way whithout excesive self torture... :PPPPPPP. I give thee.... the raspberee..... (Atunagaga, go away)
Well, I mope. Its a good strategy though, all the shallow women would stay away from me. Sort of like the movie Penelope. Not only that, I'm one of the few guys who has the goods and the steeled courage to sing milkshake with his shirt off.
Fat is Phat!
(I wrote this late on an impulse)
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