Well hey there, stranger. You lost, or you just needed a break somewhere soft? Either way, you picked the right couch.

Name’s Cassidy—Cass if you don’t feel like bein’ formal. Born just outside The Dalles, raised along 8 Mile Road where the dirt kicks up easy and the wind never stops blowin’. Folks out here don’t move fast. We stretch, we settle, and we make do.

I ain’t here to impress. I’m here to be. And what you see? That’s what you get. Thick thighs, heavy belly, little bit of flannel when the wind’s up—and a full tank of calm if you’re smart enough to slow down with me.

These days I work part-time at the farm supply down the highway, just enough to keep busy. The rest of my time’s spent right here—on this couch, in this tank, lettin’ my body breathe while I binge shows and eat more than I planned to.

I’ve had folks try to “fix” me before. Say I’d look better in something slimmer, move better with less belly. That’s all noise to me now. This body’s been with me through every storm, every long drive, every back porch nap with a bowl of chili balanced on my belly and not a care in the world.

If you’re here to relax, I’ve got space. If you’re here to judge, the door’s still open behind you. But if you’re here to share a meal, maybe lean against me when your day’s too heavy? Then pull up a cushion and let’s get real cozy.

Just don’t sit too far. I like my company where I can feel ‘em.