Me an account about a guy he used to the office with who knew some guy whose brother as soon as consumed so many McDonald's hamburgers in a single sitting that he literally exploded whenever I was a kid, my dad told. His stomach popped like a meat balloon, and all manner of guts and just ooze and McInnards plopped out. Boom, he is dead. We don't understand if that tale had a moral, but I remember thinking, "What a lightweight," and pondering how burgers that are many could probably eat, which will no doubt be means significantly more than this loser, before I actually died. And my death would be noble, maybe not similar to this loser, because we could have consumed such a shit-ton of burgers, people would have been around in awe of me. Not like that loser.
Why did I have animosity that is such a dead burger fan at age 7? I do not know. Why did I think if I did the exact thing that is same'd somehow be cool? I do not understand. But i did so develop a fascination utilizing the basic idea to be murdered by my supper. Not like from E. coli or botulism -- those are predictable -- but just having my dinner turn we struggle to dominate each other against me as. Therefore here we're.
