Buy one, get two on Keebler cookies?
Oh, hells, yes!
I ended up buying six boxes from the giant display beside the supermarket entrance. I figured I’d purchase the cookies while they were a third of their typical price, have a few now and again over the course of the next couple of months, and stock up the next time that the market ran a similar deal.
Later that evening, while watching a rebroadcast of a hockey game that I already knew the outcome of, I went through half a box of cookies.
And the next night.
And the next.
Those six boxes that I had hoped would last two months bare minimum were gone in two weeks.
“Ha, ha, Jeremy! Your ass grew thiiiiis much over the past few days. Why don’t you have some more Cheesecake Middles, Lardy McTubby?”
Ernie the Elf was right. The spike in my caloric intake because of the delicious, delicious cookies had made my waistline inflate like Kanye West’s ego.
“I’m so awesome… get down girl, go ‘head, get down…”
Unfortunately, my pants remained the same size as my girth increased.
The button on my pants did fly across the room… but I’m wise enough to dress in an area completely free of coffee pots and other glass objects. This because I realize that there’s a very fine line between maintaining the slight muffin top over my belt loops and having the confined cellulite break the levee and unleash potentially hazardous projectiles.
For a while, I wore the pants sans button. They were one of my favorite pairs of slacks, and I couldn’t bear parting with them — even though my gluttony had destroyed them.
Or hadn’t it?
I tested out the Perfect Fit button on my damaged pants. And, sho’ nuff, they fit snugly, but without the slightest threat of sending the newly applied fastener hurtling through space like a New Year’s Eve champagne cork.
Here’s what I like about the Perfect Fit Button.
My buttonless trousers are no longer buttonless. They actually fit better than ever.
Another advantage is that on the rare occasion I decide to add new clothes to my wardrobe, I don’t have to be as careful about getting the exact waist size. It’s an odd waist size, anyway. Pants with a 34 waist are a bit too big. Pants with a 32 waist are a bit too small.
Jeans with a 33 waist, though very hard to find, are just right.
There are a couple of points I’m not so big on.
One, there are eight buttons included in a package for 10 bucks. 2 silver, 2 khaki, two black, and two brown.
Who needs all of those buttons? I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty keen on wearing a single pair of pants at any one given time. Couldn’t they sell a two-pack of Perfect Fit Buttons for $2.50?
And, though I’m glad my cargo pants have been restored, I’m wondering if the Perfect Fit will make it easier to be cavalier about eating enough Samoas in an evening to make my urine smell like German chocolate cake. After all, I can always move the button a couple of inches to the right…
That is, until I run out of material… then I’d have to start having my pants custom made out of 2-man pup tents.
Me finishing up this review… and thinking about Samoas.
Where to Buy: Official Perfect Fit Button Website
Price: $10.00 + S & H. On this site, they’re also throwing in a Shoes Under, for reasons unknown.
When the button popped off of your cargo pants, did you start humming The 1812 Overture?: You know me too well.