(no subject)
so like, yesterday, when i was deboning chicken thighs, and slicing and pulling and ripping the little pink globs of meat as they desperately clung to the bone, i couldnt help but think i was practicing for something, and like, not just practicing, but getting the practice i had been needing.
what the fuck does that mean?
am i destined to be a serial killer? or a factory worker at Foster Farms? everyone seems to have some sort of direction in life except me, i havent the slightest inkling... but when i gave those chicken thighs a few hearty chops i did smile at how easily the meat fell off.
what the fuck does that mean?
am i destined to be a serial killer? or a factory worker at Foster Farms? everyone seems to have some sort of direction in life except me, i havent the slightest inkling... but when i gave those chicken thighs a few hearty chops i did smile at how easily the meat fell off.