My Kingdom for an Ass…
I finally decided to accept the truth this week. I have a serious syndrome; I was born with white man’s ass.
White man’s ass affects a considerable portion of our population, both those who carry the affliction, and those around them who are forced to see the unpleasant results of a rear end that can not properly sustain a pair of pants.
My condition prevented me from growing enough buttocks to properly keep my pants in place. Every morning, I tighten my belt until my love handles spill over the top, but to no avail, for as soon as I bend over or crouch, the back side of my drawers will slide off.
For years, a serious lack of movement throughout my day-to-day life as a fat, under-motivated office worker made coping with the condition easy. While my pants still found ways to wiggle away from their appropriate position, the fact that my derrière was being firmly planted into a chair meant to no innocent bystanders had to be horrified at the sight of my canyon of abyss peaking out at them.
But alas, my new position in the world of carpentry requires much more activity and movement in a normal day. Because of this, the harmful side effects of white man’s ass have become ever more apparent to me.
The last two days of this week were spent installing a hardwood floor. This task required a considerable amount of crouching, and kneeling, and bending over, and various other body movements meant to thwart my poor little belt’s vain attempt to keep my jeans in the appropriate position.
I feel bad for the people around me who will inevitably be faced with the unpleasant sight of my crack. I do make every effort to pull up my pants when I feel the breeze on my backside, so at least I’m trying.
End of Week 2 Weight
I finished the week out at 176 pounds. While I haven’t seen significant weight loss yet, I can definitely see some early results. My pants feel a little looser around the waist, and I can see just a hint of an improvement in my muscle tone.
My hands are pretty busted up. I’ve already had to dig 5-6 splinters out of my hands and I have various little cuts all over the place. While I haven’t developed any blisters on my hands yet, the accumulation of small cuts and nicks is really starting to get annoying. I’m not sure how long it will take for my leather-coated-man-hands to redevelop, but I hope it’s soon.
I think my feet are really starting to get used to the boots. While they are still sore after a hard day of work, they aren’t nearly as bad as the first week. I’m still planning to buy some gel inserts, but I haven’t been to Reno in a couple of weeks. (Things like that are way too expensive to buy in Tahoe.)
White man’s ass affects a considerable portion of our population, both those who carry the affliction, and those around them who are forced to see the unpleasant results of a rear end that can not properly sustain a pair of pants.
My condition prevented me from growing enough buttocks to properly keep my pants in place. Every morning, I tighten my belt until my love handles spill over the top, but to no avail, for as soon as I bend over or crouch, the back side of my drawers will slide off.
For years, a serious lack of movement throughout my day-to-day life as a fat, under-motivated office worker made coping with the condition easy. While my pants still found ways to wiggle away from their appropriate position, the fact that my derrière was being firmly planted into a chair meant to no innocent bystanders had to be horrified at the sight of my canyon of abyss peaking out at them.
But alas, my new position in the world of carpentry requires much more activity and movement in a normal day. Because of this, the harmful side effects of white man’s ass have become ever more apparent to me.
The last two days of this week were spent installing a hardwood floor. This task required a considerable amount of crouching, and kneeling, and bending over, and various other body movements meant to thwart my poor little belt’s vain attempt to keep my jeans in the appropriate position.
I feel bad for the people around me who will inevitably be faced with the unpleasant sight of my crack. I do make every effort to pull up my pants when I feel the breeze on my backside, so at least I’m trying.
End of Week 2 Weight
I finished the week out at 176 pounds. While I haven’t seen significant weight loss yet, I can definitely see some early results. My pants feel a little looser around the waist, and I can see just a hint of an improvement in my muscle tone.
My hands are pretty busted up. I’ve already had to dig 5-6 splinters out of my hands and I have various little cuts all over the place. While I haven’t developed any blisters on my hands yet, the accumulation of small cuts and nicks is really starting to get annoying. I’m not sure how long it will take for my leather-coated-man-hands to redevelop, but I hope it’s soon.
I think my feet are really starting to get used to the boots. While they are still sore after a hard day of work, they aren’t nearly as bad as the first week. I’m still planning to buy some gel inserts, but I haven’t been to Reno in a couple of weeks. (Things like that are way too expensive to buy in Tahoe.)
posted by fuqstik @ 6:45 PM
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