I Cant Write Nuttin On a Full Stomach

I can't write nuttin' worth a damn on a full stomach! Hunger pangs fuel mine poetic juices, yours truly moost best be famished resembling lovely bag of bones beyond irreparable damage wrought courtesy anorexia nervosa nevertheless literary masterpieces one written quick succession after another profusely gushes forth unstoppable tsunami surges rhythmically metaphorically allowing, enabling, and providing voluminous water logged noggin able, ready and willing to burst infinite outpouring at Möbius strip cerebral seams. Hyperbole employed regarding above attestation regarding conducive bodily state to whip out acceptable, passable and reasonable rhyming creation to experience and witness poetic emancipation, whereby until the end of time modest glorification endowed upon me who imbues vast majority inspiration of contemporaries, plus unborn peoples... imagine renowned said author wannabe just for kicks (sinks false teeth into verboten rotten apple - oohing and aahing yum zuck) subsequently vicious rumor affecting millions future generations debauched learned primates inescapably slide into behavioral mosh pit analogous to eventual senescent cellular detritus sloughed off vis a vis keratinization anyway figuratively swinging around deftly cycling back thru imaginary infinite jesting loop unlikely neither chance fame nor fortune promises me financial materialization, nope, not even until hell freezes over, nor when grim reaper feasts upon *****sapiens obliteration witnessing every flora and fauna molecular repurposing quantification simulates signifying universal recycling umpteenth big bang occurrence erasing all cosmic consciousness nary trace left behind encompassing collective satisfaction since genesis wrought life forms wherein primitive organisms begot reproduction fast forward bajillion years madding crowd punctuated planet Earth avast urbanization essentially branding oblate spheroid viz totally tubular vinyl city westernization.