LET'S GET HUGE

I am a large man, but I am not a big man. Lanky is a popular descriptor, although gangly has been gaining in the polls. There was, however, a brief window circa 2005 in which, due to a year of 5 meals a day and intense weight training that would turn any other person into Lou Ferrigno, I was roughly the size and shape of a normal human man. It was glorious! I would often take my shirt off and walk around the mall, laughing a jaunty laugh as shoppers jealously retched. I would crush walnuts between my boobies and flex out of plate mail, and that one time I punched The Rock so hard he exploded.

Nowadays all my mass is centered in my budding Schreiber Buddha. It makes me cry in the bathroom. So I took the plunge and went out and bought a weight bench. Two things:

1) Lizett is my hero. We have no room for a weight bench in our apartment. We used to have a spacious living room and a respectable dining room. Now we have a cramped living/dining room and a weight room. Lizett has raised no objection. If our child ever asks me how I knew she was the one, I will just flex and go "HOOOOOOUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHBBRBRBRBRBRBB!!!"

2) Buying the bench and weight set was the most emasculating experience of my life. The salesman was, without exaggeration, 6'5", 250 easy, chiseled from diamond, voice of Barry White, with a thick voluptuous goatee that could feed a village for months. I have never felt so inadequate. He was polite but I know he falls asleep nightly chuckling at the thought of me lying trapped and writhing under the bar he spins like a basketball in his special trick weightlifting routine.

2b) Assembling the weight bench partially restored my manhood. I got to break out my ratchet set! I never get to use my ratchet set! I got to apply grease to joints, and hit things with a mallet. Three quarters through I was so pumped it was all I could do not to crank the Lords of Acid and chew through a telephone pole. HOOOOOOUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHBBRBRBRBRBRBB!!!