You were what you ate. Dead
I am NOT going to suggest this was the vaccine.
It might have been, but with a hobby like that you don’t need much help from Pfizer or Moderna.
The vax gets a pass on this one.
Who watches someone eat on the internet?
I f’ing hate people…
Remember the days when viral food eaters used to live into their 50’s?
Clot shot did him in.
Whatever will the world do without Tic-Tac influencers?
How will I know what flavor of mints to buy?
Corpulent hambeast dies of gluttony at 33.
Well, from clicking on the TMZ story, I’d say he choked on the giant Fruit Loop.
All sorts of ways to become “famous” these days. Live by the smorgasbord, sometimes die by that smorgasbord.
Yep, I’ll get right on that. Right after I finish watching the “World’s Greatest Bowel Movement” series on the Fattie Channel.
Finally a dropped dead story from about someone who certainly didn’t die from mRNA induced myocarditis.
33, the same Jesus died.
The Fat Man’s Prayer By: Victor Buono
https://youtu.be/x9Fdjeh6zMA
THE FAT MAN’S PRAYER
Lord, my soul is ripped with riot,
Incited by my wicked diet.
“You are what you eat,” said a wise old man.
Lord, if that’s true, I’m a garbage can!
I want to rise on judgment day, that’s plain;
But at my present weight, I’ll need a
crane.
So grant me strength that I may not fall
Into the clutches of cholesterol.
May my flesh with carrot curls be cated
That my soul may be polyunsaturated.
And show me the light that I may bear wit- ness
To the President’s Council on Physical Fitness.
At oleomargarine, I’ll never mutter,
For the road to hell is paved with butter.
And cream is cursed, and cake is awful,
And Satan is hiding in every waffle.
Mephistopheles lurks in provolone,
And the devil is in every slice of bologna.
Beelzebub is a chocolate drop,
And Lucifer is a lollypop.
Give me this day my daily slice,
But cut it thin and toast it twice.
And, Lord, I pray with folded pinkies,
Deliver me from Hostess Twinkies.
And when my time of trial is done
And my war with malted milks is won,
Let me stand with the saints in heaven
In a shining robe size thirty-seven.
I can do it, Lord, if you show me
The virtues of lettuce and celery;
If you’ll teach me the evil of mayonnaise,
The sinfulness of hollandaise,
And potatoes a la Lyonnaise,
And pasta a la Milanaise,
And crisp fried chicken from the South
Lord, if you love me, SHUT MY MOUTH!