a comic strip with a healthy mesomorph runner surrounded by females and another runner observing his body type with envy

#84 "--morphs"

I am a sugar-addicted blobbomorph who yearns to go meso. Each day without that white powder refined from the heavenly cane, or the sweet goops extracted from corn, beets, hives, and maple trees, I'm one micron closer to being a V. Right now, I'm a lower case b, although if you count my manboobs I could be perceived as a lower case b with an upper case B turned 90º clockwise hanging on top of the stem of the small b.

Can a blobbomorph become a mesomorph? If there are truly only four body types (mesomorph, endomorph, ectomorph, and blobbomorph), and these are not changeable, am I doomed? No. Maybe I'm an cazy 'ol optimist, but I don't believe I'm ever doomed and that almost anything is possible. I also believe in evolution and that the consciousness of the species plays at least a small part in the process. Starting today, I will visualize my roly-poly-ness transforming into the body of an Olympic triathlete, or the alien-shagging Will Riker (Star Trek: TNG). Slowly, but surely, I will cause my body to mutate into a fifth body type, which I will call enchantomorph. Characteristics of a male enchantomorph would be the tendency to store fat in just one leg and on one side of the waist (not necessarily the same side as the leg), wide shoulders, fleshy chest, and excellent eye-tongue coordination. All other body types will be overwhelmingly charmed, delighted, and fascinated by this eclectic body. Natural selection will kick in.

That's it. My brain just ran out...of... fuel...need high fructose...corn...syrup...now.

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Crusted Salt comics by Jimmy Brunelle