New Apperciation For Food (Oh shit! Plus music?!?)
After devouring half a cow last week from my vice binging day (half a dozen sliders from White Castle, 2 Big Macs, a few slices of Portebello’s, a number 6 from Burger King…I think thats the Steakhouse, horribly cheap sushi from Brooklyn, the whole box of delicious cheese variety from Whole’s, and an afternoon delight at Harvest Buffet), I didn’t feel good. I’m still pooping out the floppers in biblical masses (“What the fuck? Is that horns?”). So, because I have so much time on my hands and I just because I wasn’t feeling well, I went on a Ramadan like fast. Unfortunatley, it didn’t go as planned.
I barely managed to go 3 days, 2 and half days tops, surviving on water and tea, which is still just water, only tea-bagged (zinggg…) by dried leaves. Not the best idea I had. However, at the end of it, around 4 a.m. this morning, I had a newer appreciation for food. Usually I’d have a slice of bread with some lingonberry jam and butter or some other kind of spread, but that bite into the Wonderbread was so fucking delicious. I was almost on the verge of crying from laughing so much because, well, it was fucking delicious. It made the omelet I made right after taste so much better than I remember an omelet being. But never again, will I do that again. Because I love food and cooking it. Now…adieu while I try to make some chicken casserole.
Sounds To Keep The Ear Busy and Hungry
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*** 21/m/nYc. bOrEd. Looking 4 a Friend to befriend losers on Craigslist. ***
Lately I am so bored that I’ve resorted to going on Craigslist and looking through the Personals section. I don’t commend finding “love” through the interweb cause I think its, plain and simply, pathetic. But I leave that group alone. I like to hate on those in the “strictly platonic” group.
How low must you get to make “strictly platonic” relationships online?
Of course, I don’t read through all of them. That’s a waste of my time. I only like to click on the ones with pictures. 70% they’re pictures of crap found on Google through random picture search, but the other 30% of the time, I hit jackpot with a ridiculously hideous picture of an unexpectedly greasy faced, fat, black/mexican, really fat, really blurry loser.
So my experiment is: TO BEFRIEND ONE OF THEM.
Now I only ask someone to help me in this escapade because I feel this one would put at risk my own life.
I don’t want to email one of them and ask them to meet me here and there and just stand them up. That’s just cruel.
In the spirit of the belated holidays, I would like to actually pick the most pathetic looking one and actually befriend them for a day.
Who knows, it may be fun.
Or we could end up meeting a psycho in a Santa suit who puts one through our chest and one through our head, burned to a crisp. KFC Original style.
Either way, a time killer.
So anyone who’s up for an adventure, a-ring ring.
-DbL
Experiment #1: The Mystery of Leg Hair
Question: Does leg hair make much of a difference?
Hypothesis: Psht. No. ’specially for me. I’m no hairy guido, but I’m not one of those naked hairless fetus Asians.
Experiment:
THE CONTROL will be my left leg.
THE VARIABLE will be my shaved, waxed, Nair-ed right leg.
So I was wandered around the city, like normal, in jeans, not shorts. On a chilly Sunday midday.
Man talk about differences. I really thought there wouldn’t be any difference but my right leg kept feeling like there was a chilly breeze up my leg when there wasn’t. Just the coldness was getting through to my jeans, making them cold and the skin contact with the jeans made my leg feel cold, while my other leg was all fine and calling my other leg a faggot.
Conclusion:
I guess i doubted the use of the pubes on my leg.
No wonder those sled dogs can sleep in the snow up north.
& no wonder old guidos can afford to wear buttoned shirts with open tops, even in the winter, with their gold medallion just resting on their chest toupe. (nerd fact: gold is a good conductor, meaning it will get fucking cold really fast.)
So now I just have to wait for my leg hair to grow out, but in the mean time I will have to suffer through the itchy hair stubble phase whilst denying any gay activity.
-DbL
P.S.
God, have I forgotten what smooth hairless skin felt like.
Fucking puberty.
