I stole some of my roommates honey roasted peanuts.
See, the reason I use the word, stole, is that I try to eat healthy. His idea of time off is to eat so much that he can hardly breathe. So, my abduction of these peanuts was sheer hypocrisy.
I rag the shit out him because he is 360 pounds, a roommate that karma stuck me with,
and seeing him drop dead from a heart attack is not on my bucket list!
So now, I not only hate my roommates' guts for eventually dropping dead in front of me, but I loved, loved, loved those damned peanuts! I could have eaten truck loads of them!
And that's why the philosophy that he represents scares the hell out of me!
In our bullet proof attitude that accompanies ripe young flesh, the wonderful drives of youth and discovery are predominate.
Yeah, buddy. The way it should be!
But come on former Dudes and Dudettes. The mortal coil starts looking damn shitty as times rolls by, and in the process leaves the rolls on you.
Another karmic joke. I try to eat to live, and he eats to set a record to see how he can cram in.
First course, a big bar of chocolate and donuts, then velveta cheese and ham and bread and potato chips, then ice cream. Oh, yeah. Half a shaker full of salt at every meal.
I don't want to know any of this.
Now, he has to sit in the living room to eat, because he has fed the cats, against my advise, part of his meal where he eats and they are now mafia kittens, wanting their cut before they leave him alone.
So he has to eat in the living room.
I swear, God of Karma, I try not to judge him.
I'm in the living room using the wonderful genie to speed past the boring commercial, so there is silence until the show is resumed.
Filled with the sound of never ending crunching of potato chips. He was pounding them. A more dedicated cruncher would be hard to find.
I told myself, different strokes for different folks.
I think the show runs at least 10 minutes until the next commercial.
He's still eating in a dedicated manner.
I read that in concentration camps that the inmates hated each other worse than their captors.
I couldn't understand until....THE ROOMATE!
After much self examination, I realized the horrible truth.
Part of me wants to be Jabba the Hutt just like him. Gorging like him. Eating till you explode!
I mean with Monsanto, Chemtrails, for sure economic collapse, big pharma, Isis, etc, etc, what's to live for?
When the first looters show up to take his stuff, he'll just have a heart attack.
Guess everyone should have a plan, right?