HaCKeRz KrOnIcKLeZ 3/HaCKeRz_KrOnIcKLeZ.iso/anarchy/bill/billy/beer-gut.txt

Internet Message Format | 1996-04-30 | 2KB

From: Our Lord and savior <[e-mail]>
Date: Sun, 19 Nov 1995 04:54:25 -0600 (CST)

    There's a simple trick to it, Dave.  See, the beer-gut is a
product of evolution.  Eons ago, when man first learned to walk
upright, there arose a problem.  Well, actually there *didn't* arise
a problem, and that was due to the fact that whereas the dangly bits
had once been shielded between the legs and under the back, in the
New and Improved upright walking position those powerful solar rays
had a direct shot to the ol' ManTool, and thus one had an annoying
sunburn to deal with.  I suspect males walking around with bright
red schlongs and perhaps, in extreme cases, open blisters oozing
pus didn't exactly thrill the wimminfolks, and therefore the spreading
of the genes was made rather difficult.  Now the guy with the beer
gut, on the other hand, had a pristeen schlong.  Sheltered from the
harsh elements, it was as handsome as any found on those guys still
lurching around on all fours, but had the added attraction of being
attached to what was clearly the new fast-track vehicle to fire,
split-level housing, and a Mercedes.  Wimmin have always been able
to overlook a paunch when social advancement is promised -- hell,
how else can you explain Rush Limbaugh getting married?  Thus, given
the choice between a quick and easy climb up the social ladder vs.
a pus-dripping schlong or some hairy grunt scraping his knuckles,
women by and large chose the Guy With The Gut.

    And thus, evolution in action.  Now all ya gotta do to
work a crowd while wearing nothing is to proudly thrust that gut
out and use it for the subliminal sexual lure it is.  Hits them
right in the brain stem, I tell ya.  Just like pheremones, they
know it gets them excited but they don't know why.  Add booze and
they won't care why.  That's when you get the Gold Card, m'boy.

    And there's no reason to be at all ashamed of having a
nice gut, either.  It's been selected for over millions of years
of evolution.  You're the top rung on the evolutionary ladder,
my fellow paunch-prone person, so hold your head up high, suck
in your chest, and keep that gut out there sheltering your equipment.

    Repeat after me, men:

Beer guts of America, stand up if you can.  Stick out your great beer
gut and hoist a cool one in your hand.  Your beer gut is your buddy,
a friend that's always near.  And all you ever have to do is feed
it lots of beer!

<bhelch!>

Amen!