Diner Pondering

Sidle up to the counter with images of Sloppy Josephs dancing in your noggin'...accompanied by the low hurm and hum (a distant cousin of Sturm und Drang...only for the Peckish Crowd) of a running on Empty Stomach Rumbling Symphony (which you've compared to the emanations of a Theremin numerous times in the past...'specially when you found yourself hankering for a hambone-steeped-in-swine-sluicings whilst on-line at the favorite soup line). The sidelong glances of your fellow patrons and the aghast stink-peepers of the staff almost...almost...knock you off target but suitably warn you that your fleece hoody is NOT providing adequate sound baffling for the FLURPS and GUH-GUH-MUH-BLORBS issuing forth from your lower thorax region. Hell, you think, it sounds a lot like Mushmouth from the Fat Albert cartoon scat-singing a selection from the Ella Fitzgerald Catalogue while buried under a sizable heap of laundry and not a Theremin these days. Is that a sign of some subtle evolution/devolution/degeneration of your Gastro-Intestinal System? Should you be concerned by the Change in Tune(s)? Maybe your Manwich Machinations will lead to a Mishap of Massive Movements of the Far-too-Maleable Sort? Would the Doobie Brothers mind if you changed the Black Water to Brown?