Looking past the calendar, how does one ever really know that summer’s ended? Perhaps it’s the chill in the air, perhaps it’s how quiet things get around here once labor day passes us by. Soon the pool at which I lifeguard will soon be covered for the season, and that means but one thing:
Time to get fat as hell.
Now that all the cruel teens and their judgmental eyes are back in school, I’m gonna eat myself squishy until at least March, and I’m going to love it. The literal gravy days are drawing nigh. Time to bust out the Snuggie and eat trash 24/7, giving neither care nor thought to how my sculpted body balloons through the winter months. (Pro Tip: a lot of Wendy’s locations don’t make breakfast anymore because their breakfast sandwiches taste bad and nobody buys them, but most Wendy’s still open at 10am for burgers.) It’s not like I’ll be swimming or anything!
Best of all, I’m only 20 years old, so it’ll take- what, six weeks to lose all the weight I need to before next pool season? Until then, I’mma get large, boy- and repeat that cycle over and over again until my heart explodes in my early 50s.