Tuesday, December 22, 2009


Another of my readers reacted somewhat adversely to my recent postings about high-school girls, suggesting that titillation ends where daled amos begins. Alas, I seem to be hitting a sour note.

I clarified that unless the girl in question is a cute bespectacled Chinese-American brainiac with grown-up tastes, she will not interest me.
Chinese-American brainiacs doing trigonometry homework, however, are just so adorable!


My significant other, Savage Kitten, is an exciting woman. She got excellent grades for algebra and geometry and other branches of the mathematical arts when she was at Lowell High School.
She is, if you will, the standard by which I judge others.

When we first met twenty years ago I looked like a young man in his late twenties, she looked like someone in her mid-teens. She was already legally of drinking age at that point, and in college.
I now look like a 47 year-old geezer (more or less), and she..... looks like a 22 year-old.
A slim twenty-two year-old. With exceptionally slender hands. And a quirky wit. She's still sharp-tongued, like she was then. Sparky.

She installed her own computer, isn't scared of technology, and understands plumbing.
She is a very smart woman. Though she doesn't think so.


I have described the ideal female in detail a few times on this blog.
Shorter than me, dark-haired, round-headed. Intelligent. Above all, intelligent.

In this post, she resembles Eric Cartman from South Park, both in vocabulary and burning hunger.

Here, she is a noodle-snarfing temptress. With raven tresses.

Food seems a dominant theme. That's a very Cantonese thing. Life is food, living is food. Eating is fun, eating is comfort, eating is sensual, eating is utter ecstasy.

Unless good things to eat are part of the program, you might as well forget about the company of attractive women.


Let me confess that I do indeed have an obsession.

I love watching bright young ladies eat. It's that single-minded concentration on aromas and textures, tiny fingers tightly clenching chopsticks, lips parted, a slight blush from hot-sauce, a fully involved focus, and the deliberate exclusion of all extraneous stimuli while enjoying all the yummy tasty juicy goodness - totally angelic.

They are totally adorable.

Eyes twixt bedroom-tempting and calculating. It's that wide-awake yet narrowed look. Curious, and piqued.
Is there more food? Does it taste good? Can I eat it?

Noodle soup. Steak semi-rare. Lobster. Oysters. Little egg tarts from one of the Chinatown bakeries. Chow mein. Cheung fun. Ho-yao ngau yuk. Steamed dumplings. Deep-fried snackypoos. Cake. Pork chop and rice with a fried egg on top. Milk-tea with tapioca pearls. Chocolate biscuits. Chicken soup with noodly bits. Clay pot prawn with butter and fish paste. Lamb curry broth. Shiitake mushrooms. Bearnaise sauce.
Yes. Talk dirty to me.

I salivate, achoti, I salivate meod.


Anonymous said...

I've read so much about Savage Kitten it's almost like I know her well. Please be kind enough to send her my regards.



Spaghetti and meatballs. Baked beans and ham. Spam and egg. Melon drink. Cream soda. Baked chicken breast parmegiana. Steamed fish. Oysters. Grilled sausages. Corndog. Muffins. Broiled salmon with dill cream sauce. Fries and mayonaise.

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