Dylan Gallagher knew that the closer a man got to forty, the more he pondered the great questions of life; such as, is there a God? What's man's true place in the universe? And what the hell is azodicarbonamide and what exactly will it do to my colon? This just happened to be the particular question Dylan was pondering as he stood in line at the Seven-Eleven, reading the ingredients of a pre-packaged ham sandwich. These thoughts weighed heavily on Dylan because his fortieth birthday was now t. . .