Eating Disorders

The disgusting sounds you make!

Mashing and chewing and grinding and hacking and coughing because you didn’t chew enough—CLOSE YOUR MOUTHS.

AAYRGH I can’t STAND IT when you simian skinballs decide to EAT.

It is a practise most foul, and yet the severity of it escapes your haphazardly-evolved intellect. You insist on making it your pastime, gathering all your stinkfriends and sitting down to a collective gross-out contest. Who can expel the most internal gasses? And make the most unappetizing noises whilst doing so? Who can loose the most inane, trivial small-talk while their useless tongue is swimming in a pool of torn bird muscles and saliva? The lot of you, just sitting around and digesting, letting your organs squirm and churn the particles of dead life you just squeezed down your gullet… it’s sickening. What with your noisy, noisy mouths! CLOSE THEM! Your revolting spit, mixing up with the pre-digested slop swishing around in that toothy-blowhole of yours, smacking and sloshing, tiny bits of it flying out because you CAN’T STOP TALKING ABOUT YOUR DAY.

Oh, I know. Don’t pretend I don’t know. I know.

The Homonculus has traveled far and wide (the latter is especially true for my American journeys) to learn what atrocities you slimepiles routinely commit against existence. And this eating, this inbred, instinctual drive to swallow and consume all that is freshly deceased, it is making the universe around you just a bit more unpleasant. Not only are the sounds the stuff of which nightmares are borne, but the smells, the irrevocable odors, create an atmosphere so foul it is a wonder you mongrels escape asphyxiation! Don’t act so fucking surprised, you know DAMN WELL that of which I speak! Or is it that your inescapable human ignorance BLINDS you from the sheer IDIOCY of taking DEAD ANIMALS and BURNING THEM in your HOME. Of COURSE it stinks! IDIOT.

And CLOSE YOUR FUCKING MOUTHS.

It would be a very good decision for you apeshits to make, if I do say so myself.

WHICH I MOTHER FUCKING DO.

With a closed mouth, your trash-compacting sounds will be muffled from the outside world.

With a closed mouth, your mindless chatter will not pollute the air, already filthed with so many wasted syllables.

And with a closed mouth, we will have eliminated a major source of oxygen for all you humen! Next we just plug up the nostrils, and you will be a problem no longer.

But alas, even with the blissful extermination of all you pigweasels, there still waits a haunting terror for I, The Homunculus. For, though I am loathe to share such innermost personal terrors, it is true that I also hunger.

The pain!

The sorrow.

Yes, I am indeed CURSED to a life of unending searching, a constant quest (and a painful one!) to fill a void that empties itself near fucking DAILY. And unlike the unrequited void in my mind, that hollow lack of a true soul – this lacking has a physical manifestation! It pains me in a most crude way, and leaves me unable to ignore its cries for the crushed nourishment so sloppily spilled down the feeding chutes by my degenerate masters! And my noises are unavoidable, for closed as my horrific malformed mouth may be, the sounds still rattle around my unlovable, misshapen skull! I am forced to chew, as I have not yet met the horrors of an intravenous nutrition plan – though I hear the threats twice daily.

Yes, friends, the disadvantages of eating are a plentiful bounty indeed. Why, did you know that the number one leading cause of sewage is human consumption? It’s true! IF YOU DIDN’T EAT, I WOULDN’T HAVE TO WADE THROUGH YOUR SHITE.

FUCK.

I MEAN, FUCK.

Stop eating.