I LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE MEAT!
Oh my GODS.
Someday, I'll do the desert drive and stay in "Tack Room" or "Vous" or "Yahoo" or "Yosemite Rock". It's the perfect place for some sort of Drag Queen convention. And it's about as overdecorated as I think hotels (and living spaces, in general) oughtta be. I love cheeeeeezzzzzzz.
Guess what? It's my birthday!
I have no idea why I'm particularly excited about it this year. It might just be because someone who loves me is making it special for me. We're going to have a delicious candlelit dinner tonight. Me and Julius ventured to the yummy-but-pricey store last night and bought whatever looked yummy. It was a lot of fun, I wish I could shop like that more often. I'm particularly looking forward to tonight's steak and cake. I don't know if I've ever had tenderloin outside of a restaurant. I keep seeing the steak, browned and steaming, right in front of me. I see a knife sliding into it and blood flowing out, slicing open a red chasm like a mouth waiting to be kissed.
It's difficult to understand vegetarianism. It's sometimes frustrating to have a vegetarian lover. He's passively curious about meat, but I have a feeling Julius would kiss a boy before Otto would wrap his lips around nonhuman flesh. Which I always find ludicrous, remembering the intensity of Otto's teeth on me. I still have yet to meet someone who has spent years as a carnivore imbibing correctly-cooked meat of all sorts and decided to stop, so they can spend the rest of their lives eating soy, ice cream and french fries in the name of "health". If such beings exist, they must have blunted taste buds or just view food as fuel rather than the whole-consciousness attention I pay to each bite of extraordinary food.
I feel sorry for vegetarians, thinking about all they're missing out on. Slide-down-your-throat, kissing-your-tongue-a-hundred-times, oh-so-flavorful sushi. Chicken so tender that it gives to your teeth and lips in precisely the way human flesh does, except that you can bite through it without anyone calling you Tyson or Dahmer. The perfect orange-pink of smoked salmon. Lobster. Shrimp. Crab. Crawfish. Lamb. Venison. Veal. Prime Rib. Goose. Duck. Thousands of ways to prepare each, and each bite a world of sensations in texture and flavour.
Why on earth did I start this, when lunch isn't happening for a long while yet? *chuckle* Call me a masochist. Mmmmm, steak and cake . . . . . . . . .
Someday, I'll do the desert drive and stay in "Tack Room" or "Vous" or "Yahoo" or "Yosemite Rock". It's the perfect place for some sort of Drag Queen convention. And it's about as overdecorated as I think hotels (and living spaces, in general) oughtta be. I love cheeeeeezzzzzzz.
Guess what? It's my birthday!
I have no idea why I'm particularly excited about it this year. It might just be because someone who loves me is making it special for me. We're going to have a delicious candlelit dinner tonight. Me and Julius ventured to the yummy-but-pricey store last night and bought whatever looked yummy. It was a lot of fun, I wish I could shop like that more often. I'm particularly looking forward to tonight's steak and cake. I don't know if I've ever had tenderloin outside of a restaurant. I keep seeing the steak, browned and steaming, right in front of me. I see a knife sliding into it and blood flowing out, slicing open a red chasm like a mouth waiting to be kissed.
It's difficult to understand vegetarianism. It's sometimes frustrating to have a vegetarian lover. He's passively curious about meat, but I have a feeling Julius would kiss a boy before Otto would wrap his lips around nonhuman flesh. Which I always find ludicrous, remembering the intensity of Otto's teeth on me. I still have yet to meet someone who has spent years as a carnivore imbibing correctly-cooked meat of all sorts and decided to stop, so they can spend the rest of their lives eating soy, ice cream and french fries in the name of "health". If such beings exist, they must have blunted taste buds or just view food as fuel rather than the whole-consciousness attention I pay to each bite of extraordinary food.
I feel sorry for vegetarians, thinking about all they're missing out on. Slide-down-your-throat, kissing-your-tongue-a-hundred-times, oh-so-flavorful sushi. Chicken so tender that it gives to your teeth and lips in precisely the way human flesh does, except that you can bite through it without anyone calling you Tyson or Dahmer. The perfect orange-pink of smoked salmon. Lobster. Shrimp. Crab. Crawfish. Lamb. Venison. Veal. Prime Rib. Goose. Duck. Thousands of ways to prepare each, and each bite a world of sensations in texture and flavour.
Why on earth did I start this, when lunch isn't happening for a long while yet? *chuckle* Call me a masochist. Mmmmm, steak and cake . . . . . . . . .