You're thighs are like tree trunks how did they get so enormous?
Perhaps my thighs are the sponges of ancient secrets destined for some grand portent.
Maybe One day I will awake and my thunder thighs will be glazed in lightning and I can do every citizens grocery shopping in a flash dash commotion.
Or perhaps this was something I was born with, and we all know the most bosky beautiful foliage isn't supported by gingerly  meek and cowering twigs, but by Herculean genuine esteemed appendages.