Once bitten

This is something I wrote a while back. I got to thinking about it as I spent the better part of five minutes this evening chewing the nail on my thumb:

While they serve a plethora of practical purposes, I primarily view my fingers as a snack. The way I see it, they are the smorgasbord of the body, with each individual digit presenting its own cornucopia of flavor. The beauty lies in the fact that no two bites are the same, as each is dictated almost entirely by that days actions. For example, I may dive into a salty, luscious, vibrant nail or cuticle on my left hand in the morning, only to spend my afternoon feasting on a sour nub that requires a butcher’s precision on my right. As you watch me feed, you may find yourself repulsed, but before you judge, think about it, what better way to surprise yourself than with a nibble of the unknown? Now I realize that many are disgusting by my actions, but to those individuals, this is all I have to say: fuck off, I don’t criticize your meals, you shouldn’t criticize mine.