Do what you must, I have already won.
I was waiting to see the kid vomit.
It scares me how much I understand the feeling. Taking a deep breath as you haven't had an adequate supply of oxygen in your lungs since the food arrived. Unable to move your body from the sheer weight of the food youve just sent to the deep, dark, seemingly endless abyss that was once your stomach. Trying to fight off the sweet embrace of the food coma like a toddler trying to fight mike tyson. Then right as you're about to succumb to sleeps loving grasp, the rumbling of your colon starts. That's when you summon strength from some unknown location within you to just barely pull yourself to the bathroom before you unleash Armageddon upon the poor defenseless toilet, which Is going to take a beating that would make Rihanna twitch. Then, after all is finished, you slowly shuffle to your bed (or the couch) as to not irritate your ruptured asshole. Then you gently lay on your back, close your eyes, and escape into darkness. There are no dreams, not this night. Your body needs every bit of energy to process the aftermath of the last hour, and prepare for when you awaken, hoping from the bottom of your heart that your toilet has somehow miraculously survived your savagery....
Don't worry kid. I know how you feel, it's going to be okay... it's. Going. To. Be. Okay.
Exactly how I feel after lunch at my desk
looks genuinely shocked at what happened
It is probably not healthy to feed the kid until he loses consciousness.
Its from a film done by a small comedy troupe. you might have heard of it, Monty Python's The Meaning of Life
Home alone....if your home was McDonalds
The meal isn't over when I'm full, it's over when I hate myself.