Voices from the pantry... Part One

“I’ve gotten used to ignoring them and I think, as a result, they’ve kind of given up on me.”  - John Forbes Nash

I only tried psilocybin once in college. I have been clean of distilled drink and THC for fifteen years. To ensure a trifecta of soberness, no caffeine in a decade. Each day my mind is lucid the moment the alarm clock buzzes at 4:30 a.m. There is little escape from reality with a head free of chemical vice. So why are there voices coming from the pantry?

I should bring the readership up to speed on my latest revelation. Recently, the thought came to my head, “What if I took control over food?” Luckily the pondering came to my head first, and not to my stomach. See, if that thought had entered my stomach first, this post would never be. Just writing the words “control” and “food” in the same sentence has set the beast within my gut afoul. Brutal dictators possess a softer disposition than my stomach scorned. A cunning overlord to the brain, hands and mouth... manipulating the four senses at the slightest hint of hunger. It should come with no surprise to find out I experienced full body dread when my neutered brain became cavalier and confronted stomach.

He could have tried it first unconsciously. No, not idiot brain. He left the intercom on when he called the stomach via the central nervous system. 

Uh… hello…brain calling… um yeah so, Lord Master Stomach I was just up here thinking. Uh..mmmm…uh, what if we laid off the muscle guys for a spell? They can’t even do one pull up or run a mile without a ten-minute union break. Uh, um, uhhhh. I was doing more thinking, and we could stop consuming copious amounts of the crap you force hands to shove into mouth, then the skin could take a rest from constantly stretching... Ok. I said it. Hope we are still cool. I will be up here daydreaming if you want to discuss. 

Stomach did not likey. Did not likey one bit. Thank goodness the creator did not give a factory reset button as an optional upgrade to the belly button. My stomach would have pushed that button. Might have even burnt this body down. Civil War. Ugly divorce. Dogs and cats. Coke and Pepsi. Yet... I likey. I likey a lot! Chill out stomach and get back in your lane. 

Born was the idea of focusing on food consumption as my challenge. And who else better to concoct a twisted set of dietary challenges? THE ODJ!... What will the master blaster of pain exploitation come up with? No clue. But it’s going be huge. Epic. Game changer. And a plethora of other clichés. Or, it’s just gonna suck and cause me to complain all the way through. Either way, the resulting reactions should make for quality fodder.

(I will get to the voices next post.)