It so would make a decent short movie. It would just be me sitting on a bench in the park each day, watching the sun go down, sighing with a frown on my face, homeless people walking up to me and offering me a dollar cause I look so terrible. A priest approaching me, thinking I’m a depressed drug addict living on the bench he always sees me on, asking what kind of drugs am I on that ruined my life… I would answer “Boards, Magsj is cooking again tonight, she insists on cooking every night, so I say I gotta work late, but I don’t, so I just sit here, and try to wait till she falls asleep, then dump her foul shit she cooked for me down the drain. I’m skin and bones, I feel I’m dying, I can’t go on, I think she deep fried the neighbor’s kid pet Guinea Pig. Still had a head on, it looked pissed.”
Priest slaps his hands on his knees, stands up, does his cross, and says "Damn, ummm… go in peace my son, and may God be with you. "
I then begin to sob, no longer seeing God behind every increasingly blurred sunset, the image of which is warped by my tears. Life no longer has no meaning, only horrible cooking, and the inevitability of a lonesome death, as Marcus Gavius Apicius understood.
I searched online a few years back intending to buy some, but the stuff is so popular, stock of it was all brought up. I bought some seeds to grow my own, but they still sit there years later… this year, this year, this will be the year that I finally grow some.
That squid was cooked to perfection… neither over nor under cooked, which is an awful culinary faux pas to commit and one of many that my fishmonger and I and any customer hanging out at the stall regularly discuss and shake our heads at in disgusted culinary snobbery.
Grilled squid has colour, poached does not… Turd is just being facetious, as always. He should be confined to an eternal diet of raw squid and poo poo mutton… de-lish
I could tell it was to perfection. My mom makes a great sweet spaghetti squash dish, but there’s a bunch of ways to go with it. For him, a pu pu platter sounds appropriate.
I’ve always wanted to preside over a traditional ceremony with Turd in virgin white, chained atop to a Greek cliff, an offering to the Kraken. It’d be a short marriage Mags. Turd being supper would fit right into your supper club!
Actually he’d be easy to cook for, anything burnt with lard and salt would have him drooling.
You have the room in your garden, they’re fairly large and probably will really spread out? Leave a few feet between seeds and put several seeds into each hole.
Got a fresh crab on the way home from a London forum for prospective MPs, and then this happened with it when I got in… it snowed on the way there, and more snow forecast tomorrow.
Gyro, at my town’s new Greek Restaurant. They just expanded their restaurant, tried to make it fancy ass in a larger,upscale location. I just wanted a Lamb kebob, but they took it off the menu.
Old restaurant, before they moved. It is one of those retarded places that would absolutely amaze Smears. Me, I just want my damn Lamb Kebob. Only time I’ve been amazed by a restaurant was in Coronado, in San Diego, I landed my kayak to look for water in a residential area, came across a Greek restaurant, was amazed. So were they, they never had someone paddle up to eat before.
It is merely a host for my offerings. You have no idea how good that tasted… just crab and aolio… delicious… The leaves are merely a carrier for my intended meal, and my body doesn’t require much more beyond what you see me eat… too much and my body slows down, so I gotta go with my flow/what my body dictates I need.
I fell asleep after that, and only God knows what the cat was up to during the last few hours while I slept… caught him attempting to munch on an electric cable yesterday, so gotta monitor his movements more, or he may end up frying himself.