GPOW

Who had a set of G's to start the night off tonight, huh? God damn. Sex is great for me, you know? Because my girlfriend, she's 50, and I'm blue-collar grimace. I got to get personal with you guys. I like a finger in my belly button. So when I'm fucking her doggie, I can pick my belly button up, like pulling a bowling ball out of a bowling bag, you know? Throw it on her back like a prison honey bun. 12 seconds and 50 micropumps later, I'm sweating. I'm cramping up. My balls are dragging on her quilt like 40 grit sandpaper, buddy. She looks back at me. She's like, when are you going to stick it in? Fuck. Switch. Your turn. Get on top, bitch. She hops on top of me like a paraplegic getting on a Harley. Her knees start cracking like fucking lobster night at the VFW. Anyone smell butter? Yeah, so this is a long-winded way of saying sex for us is... 30 seconds of arguing who's on bottom. That ends with me jerking off to mukbang. Thank you guys so much.

I know I look like I build benches and stress tests them with my ass. I know I look like a carpenter's sleep paralysis team. And what do you mean there's a weight limit? I'm getting to the size now where my clothes have no name brands anymore. These suspenders, guys, you've seen them holding down a dresser in the back of your buddy's Tacoma. Come on. These are load-bearing, guys. Come on. I've been trying to do something about it. I've been going to Overeaters Anonymous, you know? It's like AA for, you know, beautiful people. It's not working. It's really not working. Fuck. Perfect. It's really not. You did it. First visit, guys. They give you a gold coin as a commemorative thing, and I immediately tried to pull the foil off the outside of it. Not for me.