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Alternately titled: arm ugh gut tin  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!
0
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 11:06 PM UTC
matthew-scott-harris2p
Goodbye six pack Hello Love Handle
Alternately titled: arm ugh gut tin  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!
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