am a hairy pale face, love eating with my hands. i went to a Moroccan joint one time where that was the thing and i was like, "yes." just scoop it up and stuff it in like a hungry toddler. utensils are performative b.s. anyway. who am i, the goddamn dowager countess? i am not here to make friends. i am here to do a job for the only boss i respect in this world: my tummy.

pre covid i used to go to a hospital cafeteria near to my work to eat and sometimes they'd have like some kinda nashville hot chicken, and when i get a back piece you better know i'm going manual. honestly, it was only the rich professionals that seemed to be put off by watching me get into a bird carcass, while they aristocratically poke their chicken "salad" loaded with bite sized cubes of premium poultry cuts and bacon bits slathered in buttermilk-based sauces.