This obese doofus has a Suburban McMansion in the fabulous housing development on the very best street in Whitebreadborough USA, where he lives with his cookie cutter wife and cookie cutter 2.1 children when he isn't at his Standard Office Job selling Standard Office crap to Standard Fellow White Nobodies for 40 years or so until he retires to Tampa or Phoenix. In the meantime, he's going to take pride in having a f--king tailgate that expands to provide more room to do stuff on because he's actually been dead for years and has absolutely nothing of interest going on in his life and there's only so many times a week he can hop on his $4000 riding mower and spend 45 seconds mowing his postage stamp-sized lawn.
No hate, buddy, but seriously: if you find yourself "flexing" with something like this, it's time to call it a day. Go back inside to your Man Cave and watch tv on your 70-inch screen and if you're very, very lucky a nice little heart attack will come out of nowhere to rescue you from your non-life. You're welcome.
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