I do all of these things. I’ve never been able to articulate it as well as John Cheese over there… but here’s an anecdote re: “You Develop a Taste for Shitty Food”
A couple years ago, I got a student loan refund and decided Colby & I deserved to have One Fancy Dinner Date. We went to the Porterhouse Grill and I ate steak and mashed potatoes and it was so amazingly delicious that I literally cried. For-real literally, not hyperbolic-literally. Just a few teardrops into my wineglass, you know. Later that night I got sick and puked it all up because, presumably, my stomach was so used to consuming ground beef wrapped in plastic once a month that it just didn’t know how to process actual food.
