The Legendary Man Boobs Bit

First off, there are a couple of things I would like to get off my chest…I am of course referring to my man boobs. I’m tired of them, seriously. This year I am turning 25, so that means my man boobs are turning like 13. Great! My man boobs are teenagers now. I guess I should start referring to them as “my so-called man boobs”. I’ll never get to sleep over the sounds of emo music and gossipy telephone calls. Maybe I’m just anticipating that my man boobs will have the same high school experience that I had. Who knows, they could turn out to be jocky man boobs, and beat up kids like me.

If man boobs didn’t come along with a large belly and a large everything else, they would be way more embarrassing. One of the thousands of reasons I don’t exercise much or ever is because I’m afraid that I’ll lose 100 lbs, and none of it will have been from my chest area, and I’ll be just man boobs and a flat tummy…great imagery.

Man boobs are like a second appendix that only fat dudes have. They’re the most useless body part. There aren’t even any fetish magazines featuring shirtless chubby guys bunching their chests up for the camera, not that I’ve checked recently. Also I don’t even know if fetish magazines still exist, assuming that the majority of niche-market periodicals have likely gone digital by now. I guess the genuine article of a physical magazine could add some beef to a fetishist’s fantasy, though. Guy receives his copy of Man Boob Mania in the mail, opens it up, “This shit is so fucked up that someone had to print it on paper. The internet couldn’t handle this shit!”

I’m worried that someone will come up to me after my set some time and tell me that such a magazine does exist and that my bit is flawed. But hey, for all you guys know that could have already happened, but I just killed that person and kept telling the joke while knowing it’s flawed.

I have way too much material on man boobs. Maybe I should go on tour with other chubby guys and tell these jokes. We’ll call it the Man Boob-alogs. I’ll recruit by going basically anywhere in the Midwest, because that’s where guys like us sprout from the ground like stalks of corn. Sweaty, lethargic stalks of corn.