I'd say he puts a lot of work into this body of his.
God, what a muscle stud.
Just imagine for a moment, if you will, like, bumping in to Phil in some random locker room, or restroom somewhere. Maybe you're trying on pants at Target, okay? And anyway, you come out of your dressing room, to show your significant other how they hang on your hips, and while you're still in the hallway, walking out to show off, you know, the fit, a curtain flies open on one of the other dressing booths and out steps Phil.
Wearing only these blue posers.
"Oh, excuse me, sir," he blurts as you bump in to him, grabbing his arms to steady yourself (you know, so you don't fall down), "I'm so sorry. I didn't see you, eh, coming."
"No problem, Mr. Heath," you reply. "My fault."
He smiles at you and says, "Well, what do you think of the fit?" He looks down at the, maybe 3-square-inch of fabric...
"Nice," you smile. "But I think it needs... adjustment. You know, I'm a part-time, freelance, uh, tailor. If you want me to, uh, you know, tailor your posers, uh, I don't charge much."
"Cool!" he beams. "What's your address?"
I don't know... just a hypothetical scenario...
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