Some time ago, I stated on this very forum that -- regarding the Panarin signing -- I would never starve again due to all the crow I was eating. Hahaha, ho-ho-hum, chortle chortle. Well jests may tickle the wit but they also mask reality! You see, I have been lying to my friends, to the Rangers community, and to myself -- for I am secretly living a double life. I am not simply Kravtsonkravtsov, the twenty-something who chirps wordplay every now and again on HF. Nay, I am Kravtsonkravtsov, the poor soul that has sunken into the dark depths of the sweet, savory throes of dependence!
You see, I have now become hopelessly, happily, and justifiably addicted to eating crow. Ah, my morning alarm is but a sweet reminder that my crow mastication is about to begin! I roll out of bed and promptly munch on some crow, lovingly prepared the night before, distributed in one of the many crow bags stashed throughout my belongings. Ten hearty chews to delay the shakes! So musty is the avian odor which blankets my room, that my roommates have even confronted me with alarm. Last night, my good pal knocked on my door. He questioned: "Kravstonkravtsov, where does this pungent aroma permeate from. Are you, perhaps, eating crow again? Are you okay?"
I won't lie, I was nervous -- but when living this double life one must act confident, unassuming, and most importantly, aloof. I looked him straight in the eye and responded, "Don't be alarmed! The crow eating is only a bit of a habit and nothing more. I am in control and can stop whenever I please." They smile and nod, and I know they know, and that they know that I know that they know, and yet the world continues revolving throughout the vast empty void we appropriately named space. Days become months and months become years and we have Artemi Panarin dropping 5 points on the greasy Long Islanders! Munch munch munch.
And as a dig myself deeper -- stealthily eating the feathered delicacy on the 7 during my commute, scarfing down some crow legs in the office bathroom, quick pick me ups before parties to get in that sophomoric fowl mood (a pun!) -- I realize that my addiction is a fully realized destiny that is now part of my identity. Now then, I am wary of being verbose and I must be going, for I have more crow to eat and work to do. Until next time. À tout à l'heure!