While my stomach is not particularly gregarious, neither would one call it meek.
The flesh does not protrude, yet still molds as easily as margarine left in the sun. Poke me and your finger will slowly disappear into a malleable everafter, a description perhaps more appropriate for quicksand than a human being.
So it came as no surprise during a recent health check when my doctor razzed: "I estimate your body fat at about 90 percent."