Upon reading the blogpost in which I praised hot greasy hamburgers for breakfast before six in the morning, a meal which if attempted might lead to gastric outrage, especially if no hot sauce or jalapeños were present, a friend remarked that living with me might prove vexing; clearly I was not sane before the coffee took hold.
Well, who is?
It was, I think, the little educational video clip embedded in that piece that roused his eye-brow. Somehow, it did not hit the spot.
It may have even persuaded him that a big fat oozing juices greasy bacon cheese burger was not what, in a sane world, anyone should eat.
Naturally I must vociferously disagree.
Hamburgers are gods.
Revere them.
Worship! them!
Such as the foxy redhead in this next video clip is doing. More praise than that for all manner of burgers is very hard to imagine.
It is poetic - a hymn to juicy things in buns.
OIL SPILL!
[SOURCE: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wmy9CTn6xMs&feature=related .]
There are many things I can imagine for breakfast. A big greasy burger is just one of them.
The Japanese eat dried fish at dawn, with some miso soup to make it moist. They have a diet surprisingly rich in calcium. Indians have zesty curry, Bengalis avidly consume sorson ka maach, and the dutch go for buns with cheese.
Fish features as a wake-me-up in many cuisines.
Soft greasy things star in ours.
Some have fish. Some have crabs.
Well okay, maybe there is a subtext in that song.
Still, doesn't it make you salivate?
Aren't you a better man or woman for having experienced that?
Everyone should have a little oil spill in their lives.
Gusto!
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TIME FOR CHUFFING!
It gets dark so early nowadays. When I left for the bus it was already pitchblack. But not raining. An hour earlier looking west from the fr...
5 comments:
Strange -- a moment ago it said "1 comment". What happened to that comment? Did you allow my comment through, only to delete it? Strange.
Speaking of hymns, I wonder whether you enjoy the following love poem, or have anything to say about it.
Dearest beloved,
Thy ---- is like unto a -----:----- and --------, delicious and beautiful -- but ------, filled with deathly chemicals.
Oh, how I enjoy ------- and ------- their delicious ------; and when I take a brief break for air, I rub -- ----------, be it the ----- or thy ----, on -- -------.
And yet I cannot forget that just as the cigar is full of nasty carcinogens, so is --- ---- full of ---s.
But when has that ever stopped me from smoking? Why, I love cigars so lustily that I inhale their smoke, deep deep into my lungs.
(And not, as I was taught, just puff on the cigar, or at worst, suck the smoke into one's mouth, swish it around to cool it, and then inhale it from there. Ah no, I inhale the smoke directly, as one does with a cigarette.)
Similarly with --- ----- -- I ---- -- -- -------, and ------- the delicious ------ way ---- through -- ---------.
For such is love, and such is passion.
Why hello Bookish,
That is a lovely poem, I cannot stop thinking about it.
Firstly, I am mighty pleased that you like cigars, and secondly, even more pleased to hear that you have breasts. Did I ever mention that I am very fond of breasts?
You might even say that breasts are a passion of mine.
Pure aesthetics, of course.
This is a clean blog, and I am a clean blogger. Frustrated, but clean. Very clean.
The mental image that poem paints is enchanting. Alluring even.
I would love to hear more.
Indeed, deleted it in order to "edit" it. As I said, it's a lovely poem. But there is no reason to let readers get their knickers in a twist. After reading it, mine were plenty twisted. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
In fact, there isn't anything wrong with being twisted either.
I am. And I suspect that you are.
Kindly go into more detail about yourself. Female? Cigar aficionado? Small and feisty?
Which of these describes you best:
O: Akane Tendo.
O: Ranma Saotome.
O: Shampoo.
O: Tsubasa Kurenai.
O: Kasumi Tendo.
O: Riyoga Hibiki.
O: Genma Saotome.
O: Sanae.
O: Happosai.
And kindly give an inkling of your "tracts of land", as the lord of Swamp Castle might say.
Flat and sweet, or epically proportioned?
Like the landscape of Holland, or more like the undulating countryside of Limburg province?
The Sierras? The Rocky Mountains? Hawaiian volcanoes? The terrifying vistas of The Red Planet?
Feel free to use metaphors.
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