don't touch sandvich

You know that feeling when you take a bite out of a big sandwich, like one of those high quality Subway things, and your teeth pull out the entire slab of meat or tomatoes? I really hate when that happens, it leaves the two pieces of bread an empty husk of what the sandwich used to be. It's a really terrible thing that shouldn't have to happen to anyone. Well, maybe my worst enemy. Serves them right for eating Safeway. 

How was I supposed to know seaweed eats babies?

But recently, I've been thinking about this phenomenon. Could it be that sandwiches are independent, living organisms? The meat/tomatoes falling out could be a survival mechanism, akin to an animal biting off its own limbs to escape a deadly trap. Except that we usually end up eating the rest of the sandwich anyway. It's just that it feels much more like a chore, an obligation that we must soldier through. Maybe in a couple hundred years we'll have stopped eating sandwiches outright because they take too much effort to enjoy properly.

Speaking of obligations, I started off this post about food because I went to a buffet again today. Now if you've read about my last buffet adventure this may be unsettling news to you. But don't worry, I won't be subjecting you to a vibrating ninja turtle this time.

Instead of an Asian style buffet, it was a "normal" buffet, about as normal as it gets here in Eagleland. I didn't have to make many difficult decisions about what animal's legs were the most delicious (obviously homo sapiens but not every place offers that). I managed to get in 4 full plates of stuff this time instead of the usual 2, but I suspect that was because the plates themselves were smaller. 

They must be self-conscious about all the fat people in this country to do that. Maybe they read that book, Baffleton's Chungergames(an important source of inspiration for this blog's underlying concepts) (just kidding there's no relation), where the main character girl got upset that people liked to take drugs and vomit while the other people were sad. 

I think they took the wrong moral from that story. The moral isn't that we should try not to steer society in a direction that would create that situation one day or anything like that. That's ridiculous. The moral is that when its party time(Wayne's World!), you'll give it THE BEST YOU'VE GOT. If that means vomiting, you puke it up to your stomach's delight! Don't let stuck up self proclaimed heroines (notice how heroine sounds like a popular drug) like the Rockinggay tell you how to have your fun!

Now, you may be wondering, what is my next post going to be about? Well, if you're reading this more than a week after I wrote this, you already know so I don't really have to tell you. But for you nostalgic fellows who enjoy living in the past, I'm just going to warn you now that its going to be a very significant break from the usual goofball dramatic tone in most of my posts. Maybe I'll even tell you the story of how I came to Eagleland. But no matter what is, you can be sure that it's more serious. OR IS IT???

Hmm, I still seemed to wolf down a lot more food than I did at the last buffet adventure. My stomach barely survived that ordeal. But it's alright, it's mind over matter, mind over matter, mastermind over dark matter. Besides, I learned an odd tidbit fact(doctors HATE him!) in health class or some nutrition website: Apparently the human digestive system has a significant degree of what I call "sensor lag", or "stomach lag". When you start eating something, it can take up to 15, 20, maybe even 30 minutes from the time you swallow before your stomach actually registers that food has entered your system. Going off that analogy of lag, it'll take the same amount of time after you've stopped eating for your stomach to register that its full, or more than full, or explodey levels of full. Wait, isn't that right about no-
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA