Scrawny

Tom is a scrawny kid.

Tom isn't scrawny.

For the past few years, teenagers who imitate overweight American rappers have been walking like inverted pendulums, swinging from left to right, which is the only way forward if you weigh over two hundred and sixty pounds, but completely ineffective if you are a scrawny teenager weighing half of that, since most of the energy is wasted on side steps, not to mention the sheer absurdity of that swinging gait.

Tom is very scrawny and wouldn't be able to fight his way out of a wet paper bag.

Somewhere in La Mancha, in a place whose name I do not wish to recall, there lived not long ago a nobleman. To his name he had a lance in its sheath, an old leather buckler, a scrawny workhorse and a greyhound that scurried about.

Tom doesn't know the difference between thin and scrawny.

I was a scrawny kid.

Tom was a scrawny kid.

You're a scrawny kid.

I know that Tom was a scrawny kid.