shark-gluttony is easy.
never stop moving, never stop eating-
bite, swallow, bite swallow, repeat as necessary.
it's really that simple.
i didn't realize you were such a little miss manners.
it's called SHARK-gluttony,
the name of the thing is the ingredients.
i exercised my cartilaginous alpha-predatory perfection yesterday, again.
of course i did.
rules is rules.
all eight days of the fair
means all eight days of falafel for dinner,
it's sorta like a way better channukah or something like that.
here's what i know for sure-
i'm set to beat my all-time filthy falafel final count.
i crept right up on it,
i'm poised to pounce on a new standard for ultimate fatness.
how do i feel?
about five pounds heavier, for the most part.
here's the thing, friends.
dominating falafels is super easy.
y'just get 'em in your sights, and take 'em down.
and that's exxxactly what i do every damned day.
i'm about that total immersion into the experience,
to the exclusion of all other things.
outside of my path to the falafel stand, i STILL haven't looked at one damned bunny.
i love falafel.
and that's it.
the rest of it can evaporate in a dinosaurian extinction-level
meteor-strike cataclysm for all i care.
you tired of hearing about falafels, yet?
well, that's a bummer.
only one more day of it,
and maybe then, if i'm a new personal best record holder,
we can all celebrate with something ELSE for dinner.
in the meantime, check this mutha-lickin' teleport:
two tasty fatties, right off the jump, just to fire up the tastebuds.
and when that Very Hot Sauce came a 'knockin',
it turned up all the boomfire,
and eventual bum-fire, to eleven.
I JUST WANT TO ALWAYS BE EATING FALAFEL.
and that's what i dis.
you know i had to order the special.
i'm just sayin', it's F*ing special.
with the fancy spice-blended pickled hottness is where it's at.
if i stay on course, with this level on consumption,
i can surpass my previous limit by one.
and +1 is good.
just ask any D&D nerd-
bonuses are expert.
it turns out, i don't love the fair as much as i used to think i did.
i used to go with an animal maniac, and i think, by proxy,
her enthusiasm for peepee doo-doo creatures rubbed off a bit on me.
sure, i like goats okay, i guess,
but not enough to make the extra hundred-step trip to their stall to see them.
y'know what they look like?
i'm willing to bet they look just like goats, just like every year.
and here's the big reveal:
they're not falafel!
i wouldn't get to eat them, anyway.
i don't miss the feeling of trying to feel differently than i do.
i like the stuff i like a LOT,
and the rest of it doesn't matter a whit.
that's the honest-to-goodness true story of the day.
don't fake your feels, kids.
that's the lesson, i s'pose.
real recognize real,
and truth tellers mustn't ever stop;
never quiet, never soft.....