When we first had the twins, being the cheap bastard that I am, I decided that I’d limit my Starbucks habit by preparing coffee at home. I even came up with my own poor mans mocha that I have continued to drink just about every day over the past three years.
This poor mans mocha consists of Instant Coffee, Hot Chocolate, Hot Water (duh) and some flavored syrup. It gives me my needed jolt of caffeine in the morning and, considering I can make about 50 of these for the same price of four Starbucks mochas, the savings appeals to my cheap ways.
But here’s the thing. Today I came across a study that shows that Instant Coffee has a very high concentration of a chemical called phytoestrogen. This chemical, apparently, is what teenage girls dream of. You see, this chemical makes boobs. And the worst part is it doesn’t care if you’re a man or woman.
So, while all this time I’ve been working out, hitting the weights, trying to turn my pecs into hard, chiseled, mounds of eye candy by religiously attending the gym, I’ve been undermining my efforts by ingesting large amounts of boob maker!
They say you get what you pay for and apparently I’ve been paying for a boob job over the past three years! I’ve got man boobs! I’ve got moobs! (Granted, they are not even A cup moobs. They’re training bra moobs. They’re petite moobs. Very small. Not Playboy material at all.)
As far as I can see there’s only one solution to this boob producing problem.
Starbucks, here I come! Save me from my moobs!
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