Act like you’re my friend I haven’t seen in a while
I honestly can’t tell if you’ve actually expanded or if you’re just wearing a giant, flesh-colored beanbag chair. Seriously, man, what happened? The last time I saw you, you had a jawline, now you’ve got a series of concentric chin-folds that look like a ripple effect in a pond of lard. And what is happening with your chest? I can’t tell where your pecs ended and your breasts began. You’ve gone from 'fit' to 'fruitcake' in record time. You don't even have a stomach anymore, you have a soft-serve machine of a gut that looks like it’s trying to escape your shirt. Every time you breathe, your buttons are screaming for mercy. I can actually hear the fabric of your clothes begging for a divorce. Do you even remember what it’s like to see your own feet without using a series of mirrors? Or do you just accept that your torso is now a planetary body with its own gravitational pull? You didn't just let yourself go, you threw yourself off a cliff into a deep fryer. You’ve transitioned from 'skinny-fit' to 'human marshmallow' so efficiently that I’m actually impressed. It takes a special kind of dedication to completely erase every single angle of your body and replace them all with circles. Honestly, looking at you is like watching a time-lapse video of a balloon inflating until it’s about to pop. Please, for the love of God, stop talking, the way your cheeks wobble when you speak is genuinely hypnotic in the worst way possible. Go find a salad, or at least some underwear that doesn't look like it's fighting for its life.
























