Knicker's in a not?

"There is a limit to the engineering possibilities and material potential that we humans can exploit. Please understand, there’s only so much control top underwear can do."

To my horror...I find myself repeating this little rant frequently on a daily basis to not so jolly, middle aged chubbers who are now finding many of their hopes and dreams being crushed between their ever expanding folds of fat. "Magic Minimizing Knickers", "Thunder Thigh Thinners" and "Bulge Busters", much like overconfident movie supervillain's they promise you the world but in the end only give you Kabul (and the dodgy end no doubt). Refusing to heed my advice, seduced by the dark side no less, these portly individuals decide to endeavour into the unknown. However, when these disgruntled lardo's realise the lack lustre results these synthetic fortresses provide, their already foul mood intensifies, their breathing spikes, they begin to communicate in a series of groans and grunts, begin sweating profusely, question my ethnicity and visa status, then struggle to free themselves from the control garments they are now imprisoned in. In these weaker moments I almost pity them.