by milkshake on Fri Feb 13, 2004 8:15 pm
Every day I wait in line at mealtimes, eagerly trying to anticipate what more gastronomic delights await.
Consequently I am now losing the will to live. I would rather blowtorch my own genitalia than eat another Regs meal. Words cannot describe the gut-wrenching, bile-inducing, ass-contracting disgust I must overcome in forcing these tiny morsels of "food" down my throat. After meals, the hunger remains, the only difference being that I now have the beautiful and rich taste of animal slurry in my mouth. Yummy.
The deserts are the least of our worries. I say we stage a coup d'etat to take control of the kitchen facilities...Failing this, I may try to contract some strange and exotic trendy disease to pass the time. I hear leprosy is quite nice.