Aye dread getting ******* and getting washed even without spectacles that haint no mo' six-pack ab which nearly rock-ribbed mid equatorial zone shapeshifted into corpuscular blubbery ancillary physiognomy where aye wanna bab bull posttraumatic stressed out middle age battle of the bulge.
Season sponged pants squarely and tightly across the equatorial adipose tissue requiring mister crab to clamp down with pincers viz primitive liposuction whence rustling scupper will efface this trireme where three-ply tread fully and tirelessly dab bull to ameliorate rolls of extra flesh alien to what stacked as an athletic sculpted body.
Now no prolong inhalation get with steely mettle hie trite to iron out the flab thus this part and parcel of senescence, yet auxiliary buttressed dermis effect forming gorged girth giving "love handles" grab reigniting reign of prepubescent anorexia nervosa, bootstrapped now wen frankly zaps distorted self-image.
Evoked holocaust repugnant rolls of fat insta jab stubborn thoughts of self-loathing entice me to become a lab bore a tory guinea pig to restore prime of life when five foot ten alignment could nab first place in a slick couture magazine from the neck down taut torso bearing fashion model and teen idol where tab.
To stand stock still until Shutterfly would SnapChat rippled tummy, could fill my hungry wallet with inxs of cash now, aye haint so gorge ***, WhatsApp with a faux pregnant protuberance, though thankfully derriere still rather dash ing, which palm pilot sized buttocks doth newt offset.
Lost battle of the bulge, where diet tribes furloughed in a flash abandoning their respective stations, gnome hatter sinusoidal parabolic frontispiece finds me to gnash my toothless mouth for lack of means to stave of the depredations of slump pin proletariat allowing me a hash.
Tag with hefty weight, acquiescing this Pillsbury doughboy blivet to subject himself to the sharp stings of a cool whip lash bearing the snap against raw skin as due process and supplication for atlas shrug ging his shoulders at the fountainhead naming me mash shew Scott in regard to oblate inflation.
Insulation fiberglass around midsection, and how ma late mum (an avid fan of doctor Carleton Fredericks, who preceded Mehmet Oz), would quash the love she showered on this sole heir - resorting to exhaustive palliatives - even ear rash shun null gambits, and as a last-ditch effort putting this offspring on par with an albatross - vamoose get out with the trash!