Bed of Meat!

I love meat. Everyone knows that. Or should. I’d much rather receive a box of meat than flowers or candy, unless of course it’s meat candy because there’s no denying that meat candy would be both delicious and nutritious.

Case in point: chocolate-covered bacon. TASTE. EXPLOSION. Yes! I haven’t actually enjoyed the chocolate-covered bacon just yet because I fear my heart could not withstand the enjoyment. I might die. And seeing as I’ve already had my near-death episode, I’m going to take a pass on you delicious chocolate-covered bacon taste explosion. For now at least.

Back to meat.

I seem to have found someone who enjoys the meat as much as I do. This lady made a bed in the shape of a hamburger, nay cheeseburger, with pickle pillows and a genuine slice of cheese, and tomatoes and shit. This is crazy stuff right here. It’s not for sale right now and that’s probably a good thing. Create some demand in the marketplace. The Hamburger Bed has its own Facebook page. I see this really taking off. It could very well be the waterbed of its day.

Here’s the thing.

I love hamburgers. I do not love hamburgers all junked up with pickles (which I reject categorically) or ketchup or any of those other disgusting condiments you commoners ruin it up with. I like it straight up with some cheese and maybe some delicious bacon and quite possibly some onions.

Yes I love the hamburger but do I want to sleep inside one? Do I want to become part of the hamburger? Clearly any hamburger with me as an ingredient would be fucking phenomonal. It would have to be housed in a museum or something. I’d totally rock the Guinness Book of World Records for most delicious human hamburger ever conceived. Peoples would be licking the windows where my human hamburger would be housed. It would be sad for you. And yet exciting!

This is all fact.

However, why do I want to nod off with my awesome dreams while encased in the hamburger and its sesame-topped buns? Maybe this hamburger bed smells like meat. I might be on board with that.

A long, long time ago I practiced the vegetarianism. I was young and undeniably stupid, more so for forsaking the delicious meat for an equally young and indubitably more stupid boy. After we split, I continued on this tree-hugging ridiculosity until I became tortured by dreams of hamburgers. This is all fact. Night after night I would dream of delicious, bloody hamburgers with their cheese all oozing out the sides just like hot melty cheese can do. After many weeks of such unconscious torture, I ate a hamburger. And it was ri-goddamn-diculously amazing. End of interlude.

With my own hamburger bed, I fear some burglar would unknowingly take a bite out of me when he’s innocently trying to rob my secret headquarters of all its awesome stuff. If that should happen, rest assured I would destroy said burglar after crying a tiny tear on the inside for his dashed hamburger dreams.

I digress. I’m really on the fence with this Hamburger Bed. It’s going to keep me up at night. Those pharmaceutical people should really come up with a sleeping pill that tastes like hamburgers to counteract the sleeplessness caused by the Hamburger Bed. I’m going to write a letter to someone now. Stay tuned.

As always, you’re welcome.