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January 31, 2019

The door

I’ve never enjoyed food quite as much as I do when I’m immersed in the smells of manure and the musky, sweating flanks of large, hooved beasts of burden.

The uninitiated think it will be unappetizing, but something about it fills out the usually one-dimensional act of consuming sustenance. You’re in the middle of life and death - living in the tense space between those two things on opposite ends of existence. When a large hunk of greasy steak, fried onions, processed cheese and chewy roll slides down your throat while you eat lunch at your zoo job, and you pause to wash it...

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