I'm Not Getting Fat; Trust Me; My Zipper Wont Stay Up!

Lots of rumors flying around here that I’m getting fat as hell. The rumors are remarkably true. That being said, I’ve done some things to mitigate my chubby little tummy all stuffed with fluff. For example, I’m exclusively wearing golf pants. They provide me a little stretch in the ole waistband. I normally fluctuate between a size 34 and a size 36. I have for years. My shorts are a 36. If I have a high sodium day, it’s dick city.

Now, dont get me wrong. Im not saying that eating salt makes your dick big as a boat. Not saying that at all. Im saying that I get so bloated that my zipper cant handle the extra belly, balls, and buttocks. I’m in that boat today.

It’s 1145 as I write this and I’ve shown half of New York my privates this morning. And our privates, lest we forget, are meant to be private! The dude at 711? He’s seen my junk bulge. The lady at Starbucks? You betcha. The doorman at my hotel? He took a long look straight down the plate.

What can I do? Diet? No thanks. Can I buy new clothes? I guess. Can I find a key ring to keep my zipper in a better position and defeat the system designed to fat shame me? What do you think, bitch? It’s called a life hack. Read a buzzfeed household hack list one time.

Sorry for saying bitch.