If one morning you open up the newspaper and see my obituary, this is how my demise probably took place. I got out of the shower and dried myself with a towel. Then, I got dressed and sat down in a chair to put on my shoes. As I bent over to tie my shoes, my over-sized beer gut cut off the air supply to my lungs and I fainted. As I tumbled off the chair, my head struck the edge of a dresser resulting in massive bleeding that the paramedics did not arrive in time to stop. Of course, at my funeral my family will say I died a hero, trying to save some dog or cat from a burning house, but you’ll know the real story. This beer gut killed me!
I thought I might avoid that scenario by buying loafers at the shoe store, and believe me when I say it crossed my mind, but the tie shoes I liked were on sale and I couldn’t resist saving twenty bucks, even if it meant enduring the beer gut until this new pair wears out.
I must confess that my beer gut ruined my best shirt. Oh sure, the shirt is still usable, but my belly button would be seeing sunshine…thanks to the beer gut. I wonder why they don’t make shirts with a bit of extra fabric in the front to cover an extended belly? They can put a man on the moon. You’d think they could figure out how to neatly cover a beer gut too!
You know what else is not fair? I don’t drink beer! I’ve had two in my whole existence. Imagine what I’d look like if I drank one a week!
Oh well, so much for the beer gut. I’m hungry. What's for lunch?
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