The way we Americans consume life disgusts me.
Handfulls of ketchup-soaked small pleasures are mangled up between our gnashing molars and swallowed, leaving dark red smears across cheeks and chins.
As a main course, lifestyle is overloaded with extras that cover up the taste of government surplus meat. Each bite almost too large to fit between unhinged jaws, we choke too often and our words are muffled by bulging cheeks and pursed lips spitting bits of bread.
The American thirst is unquenchable, since each 32 ounce cheap plastic cup is filled with a product designed to encourage refils.
Napkins are free. Shirts and unbuttoned jeans are otherwise ruined from careless dripping that stains.
And then we wonder why we feel sick, regretful, ashamed, but proud of our accomplishments in excess, and already looking forward to the next big meal.
