180#

Well, it looks like I’m a 180 pound person. I’ve weighed 165 pounds since high school. My excess weight corresponds directly to my post-twinkie pre-midlife crisis of 2000-2002. I’ve always felt unattractively thin, and given my preference for the full-figured, never particularly understood how men found me attractive, the ones who did, that is, but now it’s sort of thrilling to see jiggling in my own mirror. And is there more hair, too? I remember when Steve turned 50 and said that he was becoming the man he loved. There’s much more urgency in my work-outs now. I have to maintain the musculature trapped but slightly visible beneath the layer of cushioning fat, and battle the pre-destined eastern European/Italian pear. And gravity seems realer. After playing the twinkie card for 20 years, I’ve entered the ‘tween years, no longer a boy and not ready to be called anybody’s daddy. The arbiters of gay taste passed up this little category when handing out objective monikers. Twink, daddy, bear, cub, and me. I’m happy with my extra 15 pounds of love.

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