Meaty Monologue

Presently, I’m a fatty uncut chunk of meat. My posse and I are literally born fat chunks of screaming meat. We grow up and get fat, yes fat. Not physically fat, mentally fat. We are insecure, so we fatten up with bad habits, excuses, and sarcasm.

What I need is a good butcher.He should be able to cut out the crap and doesn’t botch his cuts. He may leave some grizzle in but it should add to the flavor of the meat when it is finally done.

I blame my mother’s meatballs.


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