Legitimate news sources are glossing over drone strikes in Syria in favor of coverage about summer’s trendiest topic: Dad Bods. If you haven’t heard this term, congratulations. Dad Bods are slightly schlubby and go well with a mustard stain on your shirt. Leonardo DiCaprio is considered the main ambassador on the topic because he is going to get chicks no matter what and he stopped caring a long time ago. Women can be shallow.
It’s no surprise the trend is on the upswing: Most people are overweight and it would be in their best interest to glorify a type of body similar to theirs. I had always thought being in shape was part of an actor’s job, but Leo doesn’t care and I’m quite certain he’s going to negotiate an arms deal with the aliens at some point.
I don’t think women like a guy to spend all day at the gym. They’d prefer he did it and lied about it. Increasingly, caring too much is seen as vain and unattractive. Perhaps it’s a sign of the crumbling of our society that not taking pride in one’s appearance is a plus. We’re poisoning ourselves with fast food and BPA in our water bottles, the environment is going to hell in a hand basket, and our next election is going to feature a Bush and Clinton. Screw it. You’re not going to look back on your deathbed and wish you spent more time at the gym. Unless you’re dying at age thirty seven of Type II diabetes. Then you might.
I decided to try out the Dad Bod for myself. This entailed several long hours of snacking profusely so I could get that sought after doughy look. First I tried the DiCaprio but found my kidney function was dipping:
At that point I decided to trade down to the Adam Sandler but was promptly thrown out of the pool at The Standard. Something about public relations:
Failing that I figured I’d really commit. Swayze looks super jealous.
At this point I began wheezing on the escalator and decided maybe glorifying being out of shape was insanely pathetic on society’s part. I settled on the Chris Brown which came pre-fit with the prison tats. My arms don’t match my head but it’s no big deal, I’ve mostly been hanging out with a whore who is blinded by cocaine and doesn’t seem to notice. In fact outside of my gut she seems mostly attracted to elderly Persian men who smoke cigars and yell on their Bluetooths. I think she’s a keeper.
As the USA descends further into mediocrity you’ll probably hear more and more about how cool Dad Bods and fuel rations are. We stopped caring a long time ago. Time to look like it. Pass the Pringles.