My food is so good that at some point in your life, should you be blessed enough to partake, you will be acting all inappropriate at the dinner table what with the moaning and licking of your plate. Don't worry. It's cool. I'm so used to it by now that I just figure that I can live and let live. Besides, spontaneous orgasm has the be THE greatest compliment e.v.e.r.
Every so often, I become obsessed with certain food categories, like casseroles, stews, and currently, fritattas. When I was in my casserole phase, nothing was sacred. If I could put it in a dish with something else and wow you then that's exactly what I did. I took regular dishes and turned them into culinary masterpieces, complete with an inter mixture of flavors that danced in tandem along your pallet. You like that sentence? That's $30k worth of education right there.
One day, when it was really cold outside and hot chocolate just wasn't enough to make it better, Nat said, "Mac 'n' cheese would be so good right now". Obviously, it was a challenge. So, I break open Mom's cabinets to pull out the basics then rolled to the store to get the good stuff. You know the stuff: aged Parmesan, Gruyere, saffron; the foods of the gods. I blended these into a sauce worthy of unaccompanied ingestion. And then covered it with a buttery crouton topping and let it bake its way to happiness. It was ready to eat just in time to sit in front of the fire. Mmmmmm...
You see? It's good right? I told this story to Big Poppa and he said, "My mac 'n' cheese is better". I scoff at him because this fool must.not.know. How can his possibly be better when he only uses standard cheddar cheese? Of course, his defiance brings on an adjective war. I know I'm gonna win when I use "orgasmic". But alas, he claims his mac 'n' cheese is like hitting the "G-spot" and showed me exactly what he meant.
Imagine if you will, that you're sitting next to a close friend of over three years. And while he's talking to you, he takes his left hand, thrusts it into the air, extends his index and middle fingers together, bends them ever so slightly using their natural curvature and then commences to wiggle them. All to illustrate his point. Kinda like this:
I felt dirty. I felt mentally violated. I felt wet from having dribbled water down my front. It was hilariously menacing. And the best part was that he was in a G-spot trance. I was laughing too hard to get words out and finally had to force his hand back to his side.
Big Poppa,
Of all the things you and I have done together and of all the times we've shared, this will always be my favorite. Thanks for the memories.
P.S. ~ there's no way in hell I'm ever gonna let you live this shit down so don't even ask.
hahahahahahaha! that picture is educational yet crude.
ReplyDelete@Mrs. G - Thanks, love! I drew it myself. You can't image google "hand finding g-spot" without throwing up some red flags.
ReplyDeletehahahahahaha! hilarious friends make life good.
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