© my mad little family

the joy and delight of william hunter howell.

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For those of you who think the phrase "Jumping the Shark" refers to strapping a pair of water skies to your tootsies, tying your waist to one end of a rope and an Aberdeen Angus to the other before heading into the infested waters of Durban, we love your very literal imagination, but you are wrong. Sadly. You see, jumping the shark is that sad moment when an established long-running series changes in a significant manner in an attempt to stay fresh and current and exciting. The irony is, well, that moment makes the viewers realise that the show has finally run out of ideas and all that time you invested in it was a waste of your life. That thing you invested in has reached its peak, it'll never be the same again, and from now on it's all downhill. 

 

Well, that is what has happened with the Dad Bod. 

 

The Dad Bod refers to that little bit of podge guys put on after their partners give birth to their first little sleep thief. There is no excuse for this other than they have a child to use as an excuse to put on a little bit (read: a lot) of meat on their bones out of sheer laziness, often telling their mates the reason they have got some extra weight is because, "yeah, it's the kids, man. I don't even have time to lace up mu running shoes or adjust the seat on my bike anymore," as they settle into the fourth hour playing Zelda. 

 

At first, this whole buzzword - Dad Bod - was funny and, dare we say, cute. In fact, it brought about a ton of hysteria and a million magazine covers that boldly claimed women preferred men with dad bods to men with rippling six-packs, jeans tighter than an otter's bottom and so little hair on their chests I am tempted to say they had negative amounts. It also brought about pseudo-funny videos like this one:

 

 

However, the novelty and sex-appeal that was the Dad Bod has now gone too far. Not only have women back tracked faster and more often than Theresa May, most men have ignored this and tried to remain a fixture of the Dad Bod craze. That isn't what bothers me, though. it is the laziness in which they go about it. It's like guys who buy ripped jeans instead of earning their tears through drunken stumbles and enduring road-rash while skating. The microwave world we live in has brought about too many shortcuts, and the Dad Bod has sadly become the latest victim. All it takes is pizza, sh*t burgers from some unhygienic road-side van, a weekend on the sofa and beer - lots of beer - yet they can't even be bothered to do that. 

 

Instead, we have arrived at this stage in human existence. We have jumped the shark. We have come up with the Dad Bod fanny pack

 

 

 

This makes a mockery of all those dads that have worked hard for their sexy bellies, all that effort they have made to stand proud as a dad and remind women of what a real man should look like. Dad Bod bellies aren't just travel accessories - a piece of fashion - they are life, man.

 

To those of you who are wearing these fanny packs, I only have one thing to say: you are no better than those guys who stuff socks down their pants. You'll get caught out eventually and then you'll be humiliated. 

 

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