The Story of One Man and his Smelly Plums

the grubworm

Whenever a man writes about man fruit, I feel the need to celebrate it.

Maybe it’s all that rich meat I’ve been guzzling on, maybe it’s the slow, terrible and steady tightening of my trousers around my middle. Maybe it’s the recent promotion of my belly to the heady heights (widths?) of a full blown gut. Whatever it is, I’ve been a-hankering after fruit.

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