To me, abs are a mythical thing. The yeti. Nessie. Britney Spears’ actual voice. I’ve never had them and I’m not sure I could handle that type of power. The Situation from Jersey Shore is a perfect example of the abuse of power. He uses his abs as a weapon. He uses them as a means of communication. Instead of saying “Hi. Nice to meet you. Can I buy you a drink?” He just lifts his shirt. DTF.
Everyone has heard the belly jokes. “I don’t have a six pack, I have a keg.” or “ It’s not a belly, it’s a fuel tank for my love machine.” Real grandpa slogans. Pull my Finger. It is strange how the belly has been embraced as a symbol of manhood. “I put alot of effort into this belly.” We rub it like expectant mothers. Maybe it will lead us to enlightenment with a rub. It is usually a package deal with the bald spot. A badge of honour to the male aging process. Maybe by embracing it, we make it ok to be getting old and out of shape.
I want to lose my belly. I don’t want to be old. I think that pull my finger is funny but I’m not ready to go out to pasture. I do have the bald spot. (Solar panel for my love machine) I am definitely a grown up. I have a freaking will and even worse, a mortgage. Nevermind by Nirvana is twenty years old. Shit. What’s next? ED. I can’t even say those words. I don’t need abs but I don’t want to be the proud expectant father of a beer baby either. I am getting old but I am tired of being tired. I am getting up there in age but I don’t want to feel old. I want to feel like teen spirit instead of smelling like it.
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