윤

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: if something goes in my mouth for consumption, I don’t want it coming back out (at least not in the same direction, loath as I am to resort to bathroom humor to make my point). Could be my propensity to swear to be careful chewing after biting down on something painful, then forgetting just in time for me to do it again, but it’s more that I think I just shouldn’t have to be careful chewing in the first place. I don’t give a shit if chicken feet tastes like Aphrodite’s teats—if my enjoyment of them requires the simultaneous effort by my mouth to seek out and exclude inedible chaff, I’ll settle for a homogeneous alternative. It’s bad enough that I have to eat at all, what with the decision-making, waiting on it to come, sharing, and eventually flushing the food away, anyway; surely I can experience what pleasure it does have to offer uninterrupted. I liken my childhood memories of picking at watermelon until it was nice and ready to Tivo-ing a program and starting playback at least ten minutes into it to skip the commercials.

Tagged food, TV