It’s called a belly, or as Le Clown affectionately calls his, a one-ab™. You’ve seen the pictures, Le Clown is pretty. Pictures don’t lie, but they sure do hide that extra weight: a large shirt, a very long and deep breath, and say cheese (hello, Oxford comma)!
Le Clown started drinking when he was just a young lad, and by the sound of this sentence, Irish. As a teenager, Le Clown was pretty and fit – a magnificently breathtaking lifeguard, most would say. Binge drinking does little to a belly when you’re under 20. And then one morning, you wake up from a night of debauchery, with a pasty mouth and a full bladder…you’re in your mid-twenties, and a few inches larger around the waist [See how I used "you" instead of "I"? How's that for total, utter denial?].
In your twenties, resolving the issue of a semi-belly means a few days at the gym, tops.You’re good as new, and might even glow in the dark – you’ll be once again the hottest thing being picked up at the club. Drink. Drink more. Belly. Gym. And repeat.
Until your thirties. The belly gets bigger… an impressive one-ab, Le Clown. A few days at the gym doesn’t cut it anymore. Nice biceps, though. Thank God for cocaine. My Carnies, cocaine is the miracle drug when it comes to losing weight, and your mind: eat little, drink lots, and keep a flat belly.
Until you have kids. Babies like mornings… The only way you’ll see mornings on cocaine is if you’re still up from partying the night before. Better bid farewell to blowing that shit up your nose, and to your flat belly… So it grows, and it grows, and it’ll huff and it’ll puff till it blows your pants off… Le Clown is a thirtysomething magnificently gorgeous man with a jelly belly… Screw booze, I need me some flat belly.
Getting sober will have a tremendous impact on your life, and on your one-ab… For the first six months, you’ll lose weight. Then it happens… You realize you’re craving sugar, as beer is all sugar and empty calories… Mmm, chocolate. Mmm, donuts. Mmm, white refined sugar: the fifth food group – the cocaine of junk food.
You’re 40, with white hair, a grey beard, painful joints, blurry vision and a masterpiece of a one-ab. The work of a lifetime. And it ain’t going anywhere…
How many 40-yr old Le Clown can you fit in a clown car?