This is the year I’m finally going to tack on those extra fifteen pounds. I’ve been skinny since birth (2 lbs. 8 oz.) and every year I tell myself that this is going to be my big year for bulking up. Well guess what, body? THIS IS THE YEAR. I’m going to get so fat.
I better not become one of those dudes that get a fat belly and nothing else. I hate those jerks. From behind, they look like normal joes, but as soon as they turn around – bam! – how did that guy get pregnant? Skinny legs and a fat tummy is no way to go through life, that’s for sure. When I get fat, I want to be fat everywhere. I want people to look at me and think “doughy.” I want kids to puff out their cheeks at me and pretend there’s an earthquake every time I take a step. I want to get so fat that I don’t even get fat-rolls when I sit down, I just get a blob.
In order to gain the most weight possible, I’ve set up a very strict regimen for myself. I’m going to park as close to places as possible so I don’t have to walk. If there aren’t any spaces available, I’ll just wait in my car and eat a candy bar until somebody comes out. When I go to the grocery store, I’m going to get one of those electric carts to zoom around in so I’m not burning calories as I’m buying calories. I will never, ever take the stairs. As for eating, I’m going for quantity over quality. Do I want cheese on my fries? Yes. Do I want to mega-size something? Always. Will I finish food left behind by people at other tables? I’ve been doing that my whole life.
By summertime, you’re going to see me on a beach and tell me to put my shirt on. There’s going to be a whole new Creed around these parts and this guy’s breaking every chair he sits in. Say goodbye to the skinny old guy you once knew, because here comes Chubby Creed and I’m going to eat your lunch.
Wish me luck.