Decisions From the Scootypuff Planet At Shoprite, getting groceries. There's a fucking ham, with a fucking oxygen tank plugged in to its failing lungs. And what is this pig buying? A whole deep fried chicken, its "muh proteinzzzz" snack. I peer into its basket. Not a surprise but repulsive. Imagine a 6 year old's birthday party extravaganza: a couple bags of potato chips, sugary soda, processed baked goods, ice cream, etc. Is it worth not being able to walk, to be fucking hooked to an oxygen tank 24/7? No, because hams possess no working brain cells. Enjoy your whole fried chicken, fat ass. Case closed.