Embrace Your Six-Pack of Lifes Necessities
Dear Uncle Bobby,
Lately I keep hearing people celebrate the “dad bod” like it’s the new gold standard of attractiveness. No six-pack, no problem — just a soft middle and a laid-back attitude. Should I stop feeling guilty about skipping the gym and just embrace it?
Hugh Jasson
Oh, bless your sagging T-shirt. Let me tell you, the “dad bod” isn’t just a trend. It’s an art form. And as a man who’s been cultivating this physique since the Clinton administration, I can say with confidence: it doesn’t happen by accident.
You think it’s easy to maintain this delicate balance of soft edges and half-hearted muscle tone? Wrong. This takes dedication. You can’t just quit the gym and call it a day. No, no — you have to actively put in the work. Late-night pizza. Weekend beer. The occasional jog that ends at the ice cream truck. That’s how you get the look that says, “I once had potential, but nachos won the custody battle.”
Meanwhile, the fitness freaks are out here meal-prepping quinoa and posting shirtless selfies, hoping strangers validate their macros. Me? I bend over once to tie my shoes, make a noise that sounds like a dying walrus, and call it resistance training. Who’s the real winner?
The beauty of the dad bod is in its honesty. It says, “I could have abs, but I chose happiness.” It’s approachable, reliable, and padded just enough to survive falling asleep in a recliner at 8 p.m. on a Sunday. That’s not failure, friend — that’s strategy.
Uncle Bobby’s advice? Embrace it. Rock it. Perfect it. Forget chasing some unattainable Instagram standard. Because at the end of the day, the dad bod is proof you’ve figured out life’s true workout: lifting cheeseburgers, running late, and carrying the weight of everyone else’s nonsense. And honestly? That’s the only six-pack worth having.
– Uncle Bobby