|Subject:||[Dahu-dev] runaround protein|
|Date:||Wed, 11 Oct 2006 15:06:02 +0300|
|User-agent:||Thunderbird 22.214.171.124 (Windows/20060909)|
It's 'strong enough for a man', right?
I arrived first, alone and early, and staked out a spot a couple of blocks past the restaurant. And before seven, I'm downright evil.
When you live the way I do, epiphanies have a way of getting buried under the clutter on your desk. My trusty stick of Mennen was rubbed down to the plastic nub, no longer able to protect me from the tense and sweaty rigors of daily life.
Maybe she's been cramming nuts in preparation for the long, barren winter ahead. Gradually, I realized that many other styles of cuisine don't lend themselves easily to the model. That's her job in this system. Maybe there's something to this 'early bird' crap, after all.
At six or so in the morning, I'm lucky she doesn't use a backhand across the chops to stir me.
As opposed to mine, which mostly collect sweat and odor and little curly hairs.
Perhaps that's asking too much.
I don't like to work too hard with my foreign verbiage. That proved to be problematic.
I can't say for sure. Especially if she also could scratch her ears with her feet or sniff my crotch at inappropriate times. Unless she's not actually pregnant, which is a very real possibility. According to my wife, a shadowy figure looming and making puckery kissy noises at her at two in the morning can be 'startling'. I found myself standing in the bathroom, with one underarm appropriately anti-perspirated and smelling of fresh mountain air, and the other.
That's my lady there.
That proved to be problematic. It's 'strong enough for a man', right?
So Spanish food it is. It's not straightforward, for instance, to split a pizza or samosa into three hundred teeny pieces.
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