I Relished Being Hungry For Leftover Thanksgiving Pop Slop Gloppy Grub First Helping

Hmm... on second thought lemme join anorexic club until rib cage protrudes taut and visible doubling as drum to drub synchronized within heart of darkness, especially when electrocardiogram exhibits absolute zero vital sign, cardiac arrest translates as cessation to lub dub, hence yours truly declared dead as doornail, coroner report deems arrhythmia directly linkedin to deliberate Machiavellian flub courtesy the missus attempt to poison me actually aborted cuz nanobots loosed upon body gripped with rigor mortis, a minor inconvenient truth cuz odorless and tasteless deadly toxins rendered me convalescing from bout with death, an oxymoronic former slenderman gourmand. temporarily deceased until said microscopic robots avidly analogous to frenzied figuratively hogtied pigs buzzfeeding at a trough creating porcine hubbub invisible nanoids (0.1-10 micrometres) accomplished programmed task whereby fatal microbes they did scrub away leaving me fit as a fiddle. No matter she thoroughly, painstakingly and lovingly didst strew haphazardly she threw leftovers together, this blustery march like November twenty six figuratively view wing the remaining thirty plus days of two thousand twenty one thoroughly cooked in microwave until... poor excuse for my meal appeared with consistency of shoe leather. Think the missus not afraid of Virginia Woolf keen to experiment treating me like the Gingerbread Hag would: questionable resultant glop pantomimed for my guessing pleasure never figure out in bajillion years as amateurish Marcel Marceau charade performance courtesy the spouse, an entrée she gave - yours truly immediately sought to evade me subsequently evincing horrific puckered mealy mouth as though I swallowed hand grenade figurative exploding oral cavity feeble futile gesticulation inveighed.