This edition of Irony Supplement is a bit subtler than most, and would probably be indecipherable to anyone who hasn’t been in face-to-face contact with me over the last few months.

The irony of this photo is that, after three-plus months and almost thirty pounds of hardcore dieting, I can finally fit into my Krispy Kreme T-shirt.

I was totally stunned while poring over the selection at my friendly neighborhood donutorium at the relatively, um, “narrow” bandwidth of shirt sizes available for purchase. Why would an establishment dedicated to the distribution of sucrose-and-emulsified-fat-pods limit the size of their shirts to extra extra large? Don’t they realize that a good portion of their clientele start at double-X and work their way up? (Not coincidentally, with a little help from their very own yummy oleaginous comestibles?)

On the other hand, perhaps there is a method to Krispy Kreme’s madness. They may have decided—not without merit—that a three-hundred-fifty-pound guy in a 5XL KK shirt doesn’t convey quite the corporate message they’re looking for.