I like to know
what I’m putting in my mouth but not in the typical West Coast fashion. I’m not
out singing to trees and eating crunchy stuff every day. I don’t really count
calories or check whether something is gluten free or not. I do however look at
everything I’m about to send down the hatch just in case there is something
there waving me a not so friendly hello. I don’t like those kind of
introductions.
“Hey there look at
me. I’m the little hair that just fell of that guy’s head. Eat me.”
“Ummm…no thanks…Waiter!!”
You catch my
drift.
This habit of
mine, that I’ve never pondered until today led me to some discoveries
in my big ol’ bear bucket of animal crackers. I like to know what type of animal I'm eating.
I ate a camel:
Then I ate a kitty!
Things started to get a little abnormal when I ate a goat:
Next I shoveled down a donkey:
Lions and tiger and bea...wait what the heck is that?
What the heck am I eating?
OK...I'm done being a food critic. I've eaten too much....
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