Stick a Fork in Me, I’m Done

Have you ever had that feeling, deep down in the pit if your stomach that something just isn’t right? I can tell you what that is.

Hunger.

If you expect me to go on some magical discovery with you as to the meaning if this ‘ambitious’ hunger, you have come to the wrong blog. The wonders and majesty of the world is lost in the hollow pit of oblivion that is my rather negative outlook on our human existence.

I mean real hunger. Like make me a burger, slather on some sauce and hand me a coke because if I don’t get to chomp on the carcass of a dead animal soon I’m going to cut off your hand and chow down on that bad boy.

Seriously. What happened to ‘I’m hungry’ why do I have to eat when work says ‘you may take a break now’
Even hitler let his soldiers eat when they were hungry.
I assume.

I can’t say I know for sure, but his soldiers seemed pretty devoted so I assume it has something to do with his less than strict food regime. Or maybe he bribed them with cookies. Maybe we’ll never know. One of the great mystery of life, you know?

No. That’s not me pondering on the majesty of existence. Get your head out of the proverbial gutter you swine and come wallow in the agonising pain that is an unquenchable hunger for real god damn food.

Preferably something that has had a heartbeat at one stage in its noble life.

Sorry vegos. I’m a hardcore carnivore with a taste for rare steaks and the flesh of things that once felt something likeable to affection.

Mmm delicious feelings.

Hate me if you want but I am hungry, and you can’t judge a person by their behaviour while hungry. That’s just inhumane.

Forever yours,

At least for the moment.

x

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