As I sit here writing this article rocking my ty dye shirt with bell bottom jeans, a thought arises, will old shit ever be cool again? Pokémon cards, beanie babies, Virginia slims and dial up internet we’re what made my childhood so memorable. Tell me what’s better than notching back a few decades by wearing neon spandex riding the ski slopes to Aspen jamming to the Breakfast Club soundtrack? Why can’t every day at work be a decade themed party? I can surely tell you if it were, my attendance would be fucking flawless.
Elderly fads were the foundation of what this country was built upon. Speaking of old fads, did you know that in a time before us, the more robust and fat you were; the more powerful, rich, eminent and desirable you were. King Henry was Jaba the fucking hut which meant in 1491 he was the fucking man
He’s Arguably the most successful tyrant this world has ever seen. Lets take a page out of this fat bastards book. Bring back prominence and praise to the fat man. Could you imagine Instagram in King Henry’s day? A newsfeed cluttered with chicken wing inhaling instead of the KETO diet. Behemoths instead of fit girls squatting in yoga pants. That’s a fad worth digging up. These brawny “bros” in their muscle tanks can suck a bag of bricks. Step aside Dwayne Johnson, the Michelin Man’s coming through to steal yo girl. If this forgotten fad somehow mucks it’s way to resurrection, I’ll be the dopest guy around since Miles Davis. However, it will be short lived as I am on the brink of extinction due to my type 2 diabetes.
They say beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. I disagree. Beauty is in the eyes of the guy on the KFC family style bucket. Honestly, if you’re under 200 pounds, I cant even take you serious. People used to worship the sun, not because it is the source of all life but strictly because she was thic as fuck. Stop with all this materialistic shallowness we praise. It’s time to get back to making bell bottom jeans in size 50.