it ain’t everyday you get to be called a dude and when you manage to be called one, you want to hold on fast like a leech to that even if the desperate talons of old age is fast clutching at your throat.
So you can imagine the shock of a self confessed dude who woke up one morning to discover that a beer gut has grown and attached itself firmly to his midsection. What a mess! What a disgrace!
Now, to be a dude, you gotta be trim, lanky and all the works, you know. You don’t need the six packs, four would do. Definitely, a beer gut is out of it. Not that you can’t consume beer but a dude must be able to drive through a line of bottles without his gut shooting out an inch.
With the dudeship about to be forcibly yanked away by the annoying beer gut that won’t hide itself, my dude (your dude) went about looking for subtle and drastic ways of sending the unwelcomed visitor away. The most obvious strategies were to cut back on food and hitting the gyms.
Cutting back on food wasn’t difficult because the dude could convince his wife that his new found hatred of food is good for the health of both of them (and the family inclusive) even though that is a dubious assertion on its own. Hitting the gym didn’t sound too nice because it involves strength of the mind that the dude hasn’t been able to call up. Of course, he lied to his wife, and everyone who tells him about the benefit of fitness that he’s a busy professional.
Running away from food has helped a bit but the beer gut is still hanging at the mid side though smaller. So it looks like the dude either goes to borrow strength of mind to hit the gyms or come to terms with the unwanted visitor.
The truth is, the dude is getting old and you can’t be young forever. Now, what can this suffering dude do?