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You know how people say, "Don't just accept information, chew on it, and then spit out the unnecessary parts"? Well, I tried that with my bills. I chewed on them for a good five minutes, hoping the unnecessary charges would dissolve, but all I got was a call from my bank asking if I had a rodent infestation. I started applying this philosophy to everything in life. Someone gives me unsolicited advice? I chew on it, and if it tastes like nonsense, I just spit it out. It's like my own personal wisdom filter. I've become the chewing gum of life – absorbing all the flavor and spitting out the rest.
I tried sharing this technique with a friend, and they were like, "That's not how you handle problems!" Well, sorry, Karen, but your approach doesn't involve nearly enough jaw exercise.
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Why do snacks have to be so loud? I mean, I can't be the only one who thinks they should come with a noise level warning. You've got these snacks, and they're like, "Hey, I hope you're not planning on sneaking a midnight snack without waking up the entire neighborhood!" I was enjoying some chips the other day, and with every bite, it sounded like I was participating in a percussion concert. I'm convinced that the decibel level of my chewing can be heard from space. If aliens are monitoring Earth, they're probably thinking, "What's that crunching sound? Do they not have silent snacks on that planet?"
I tried to eat quietly once, and it was like trying to tiptoe through a room filled with squeaky toys. The more I tried to be discreet, the louder it got. It was like my snacks were conspiring against me, forming a Chew-nami of noise.
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You know, I've been trying to eat healthier lately, but I gotta say, my attempts are as successful as Chewbacca trying to enjoy a bowl of soup. I mean, have you seen that guy chew? It's like he's auditioning for a role in a wood chipper commercial. I tried to follow his lead, thinking it would make me look cool, but all I got was a disapproving stare from my dentist. I went to a nutritionist, and they said, "You need to chew your food at least 32 times before swallowing." I'm sorry, but if I'm counting my chews, I'm not eating food; I'm doing mental math. Last night, I had a salad, and I swear I chewed so much, the lettuce started writing me thank-you notes.
I'm thinking of starting a new diet trend – the Chewbacca Diet. You lose weight not because of the food but because you give up on eating altogether. The tagline could be, "Chew like a Wookiee, look like a model." Just imagine the fitness influencers posting videos of themselves trying to imitate Chewbacca's chewing style. It'd be the weirdest viral trend ever.
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Relationships are tough, aren't they? It's like a never-ending game of "How much can you tolerate?" I recently read this relationship advice that said, "Sometimes you just need to chew on your words before you say something you'll regret." Well, that explains why my dog gives me relationship advice, because he chews on everything. I tried applying this wisdom in my relationship, but it turns out my partner isn't a fan of my extended moments of silence while I'm allegedly chewing on my words. They were like, "Are you okay?" And I'd be like, "Shh, I'm marinating my thoughts for better flavor."
I asked my dog for more relationship advice, and he just looked at me, picked up his chew toy, and wagged his tail. I guess his advice is, "If it stresses you out, just chew on something and wag it off.
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