Captain DadBod: An Origin Story

So, blank page. Blinking curser. And I need a Writer’s Intro. Let’s try…this. 

I am Captain Dadbod. Tipping the scales of… truth? Well, I’m not going to be lying or anything, but I don’t want to get all preachy. Nobody needs ME to tell them “the truth”. They know it in their hearts. 

Tipping the scales of… justice? Naw. We’ve got Judge Judy for that.

Hmmm…how about-

Tipping the scales of…the American way? Now, that’s closer. I sort of like that. I mean, as Americans, we are a fat bunch for the most part. It is our way to eat more, walk less, and binge watch in between.

But, still, that seems a little harsh for an intro. I don’t want to alienate anybody. 

I am, after all, an insecure superbeing. I do crave love and validation from others. 

And I do have MORE to love. But I digress. This is no romance blog. 

GRRRRR! Alright! Focus Chunky Wonder! Focus!

Remember who you are, Dadbod! Food is the fit killer. You must let it flow through you.  

AH YES! THAT’S IT! THE FOOD! I have it! Here we go! 

People of the earth, and more specifically, the western hemisphere… 

I am Captain Dadbod! Tipping the scales one steak, one milkshake, one tower or endless onion ring at a time! And I have come to empower you with the truth that you are NOT alone! 

I’M AM THE FAT SUPERHERO! 

Well, okay. More like your friendly neighborhood, “pudgy-powered protagonist.” I wouldn’t go so far as to call myself fat. I mean, I’ve got a weight problem. I’m a married man with an Italian cook for a wife. What’s a hefty hero gonna do? 

Anyway, I’m a believer in transparency. So, I’m gonna go ahead and be a straight shooter here. SUGAR is my kryptonite! It’s my addiction. I can’t just have one serving. 

Oh, and did I mention, the wife is highly trained in the art of baking. We’re talking Cake Boss level stuff. She puts sugar IN the sugar! Indeed, I do believe it’s possible that I may have married my arch nemesis. But she loves it. It’s her thing. Who am I to steal it from her? It’s not like she’s injecting the sugar into my veins while I sleep…Is it?

Bottom line, only I can control myself. It will be my mission to do just that and, hopefully, inspire some folks along the way. 

Ultimately, it is my goal to save us all from the Great Weight War of the 21st Century. 

I have a mission of Making America Leaner Again. 

Ohhhh! I LIKE that. It’s almost a slogan. Somebody should put that on a hat! 

(Spoiler alert! Product line forthcoming.)  

In any case, I shall share my journey with you using whatever format proves most effective. Be it these written words, a podcast or a vlog utilizing the less attractive surrogate body I had 3D printed using freezer-burnt deep-fried ice-cream, Hershey bars and a cape made of fondant, I will share the truth of my journey here.  

And, unless for some unforeseen reason you should decide to turn on me, I promise to only use my greatest superpower for good. I pledge to you now. I will never attack you. I will never blind you. I will NEVER, EVER force you to see me naked.  

And with that, I say, “Up, Up, and Away!” 

What? Oh, you want to see it.  

Oh, no. I couldn’t do that to you. Lately, I’ve had too many failures to launch. The last time I tried, my tights split in all the wrong places if you know what I’m saying. Nobody wants to see that, so I’ll just walk it off instead. 

Yeah. That’ll be good. Get my steps in. It’ll be a chance to connect with the masses. Wave to the people. See the sights. Burn some calories. Set a good example. Be the hero, blah, blah, blah.

Oh, look! A Cold Stone. 

You think if I eat six different flavored scoops, I might be able to snap half the guts on earth out of existence? Only one way to know for sure! 

Check back soon for the ongoing adventures of…

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