Our guts are finely tuned engines of fermentation, a biome where nature's alchemy turns forage into fuel. A biome home to diligent little piglets (Porcillus sp.) that work endlessly to munch and break down the fuel that we send them.
Now sometimes a tootlet will escape, and that's well and healthy. Fed properly, they remain pleasant, small, calm. But when given slop- excess sugars, refined carbs, sneed oils- they grow. Warped. Feral. No longer content to graze, these brap hogs stampede out in a fury. Some call it indigestion, others know it as freedom.
🐗🦠