thai food love letter
NaBloPoMo, Day Thirteen
Cookies Eaten: None. Er, none that were baked, that is.
Cups of Coffee: One
Vegetables: Whatever was in the Thai food.
Naughty Words: Five
Mexican Food: Beans!
- - -
Dear Thai Food,
I know I shouldn't be writing you this letter when I promised to stay away, but I just can't help myself. You're all I think about. When I'm driving down the street, passing all the restaurants, I don't even see them! Not a one! Not the Greek, not the sandwiches, not the burritos, not the pasta! When I'm in the shower, when I'm teaching, when I'm at work, ALL THE TIME. No other food satisfies me in quite that special way. You're my one and only, Thai Food. I love you so much I want to take you behind a middle school and get you pregnant.
But I just can't keep doing this. I need your help! How can I get over you?
Tell me how to stop thinking about the way you make my mouth tingle in anticipation (and afterwards, too). The way you are drenched in these incredible sauces. Creamy ones, thick ones, thin ones, spicy ones, curry ones, garlic ones. Tell me how to stop loving your deliciously crisp vegetables and your indescribable noodles. Tell me how to stop loving the way that your cashews bring out the nutty flavor that is inherent in the chicken. Tell me just why it is that one of your ingredients is fish sauce, and I don't even care! Fish sauce! It's not natural, it smells gross! What the fuck is fish sauce? I love you so much!
I just want you to know that you've ruined me in every way it is possible to ruin a person. I live in constant apprehension of when we may next meet, and since I met you, I haven't looked at any foods the same. Mexican food, once my true love, keeps leaving me creepy phone messages, and although I'm not quite sure what they're about because he talks so fast, I know he's not happy. The vegetarian avocado sub, it misses me. Thanksgiving dinner won't even look me in the eye. Do you even know how awkward this year is going to be? WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO!? ANSWER ME, YOU SAUCY WENCH!
I hate you.
Love,
Ashley
Cookies Eaten: None. Er, none that were baked, that is.
Cups of Coffee: One
Vegetables: Whatever was in the Thai food.
Naughty Words: Five
Mexican Food: Beans!
- - -
Dear Thai Food,
I know I shouldn't be writing you this letter when I promised to stay away, but I just can't help myself. You're all I think about. When I'm driving down the street, passing all the restaurants, I don't even see them! Not a one! Not the Greek, not the sandwiches, not the burritos, not the pasta! When I'm in the shower, when I'm teaching, when I'm at work, ALL THE TIME. No other food satisfies me in quite that special way. You're my one and only, Thai Food. I love you so much I want to take you behind a middle school and get you pregnant.
But I just can't keep doing this. I need your help! How can I get over you?
Tell me how to stop thinking about the way you make my mouth tingle in anticipation (and afterwards, too). The way you are drenched in these incredible sauces. Creamy ones, thick ones, thin ones, spicy ones, curry ones, garlic ones. Tell me how to stop loving your deliciously crisp vegetables and your indescribable noodles. Tell me how to stop loving the way that your cashews bring out the nutty flavor that is inherent in the chicken. Tell me just why it is that one of your ingredients is fish sauce, and I don't even care! Fish sauce! It's not natural, it smells gross! What the fuck is fish sauce? I love you so much!
I just want you to know that you've ruined me in every way it is possible to ruin a person. I live in constant apprehension of when we may next meet, and since I met you, I haven't looked at any foods the same. Mexican food, once my true love, keeps leaving me creepy phone messages, and although I'm not quite sure what they're about because he talks so fast, I know he's not happy. The vegetarian avocado sub, it misses me. Thanksgiving dinner won't even look me in the eye. Do you even know how awkward this year is going to be? WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO!? ANSWER ME, YOU SAUCY WENCH!
I hate you.
Love,
Ashley