Check out my new threads — courtesy the dynamic Carolee Jones:
Would you actually use the pocket or is it there as some sort of statement, political, sexual, or otherwise? I deal almost exclusively in metaphor, as you well know, but this has me perplexed.
The metaphor goes too deep. You wouldn’t get it.
Stick to Kid Rock.
What’s the deal with sending me and my lady friend to Okole Maluna? God damn it! I knew I was fucked when I saw Spam on the appetizer offerings. You know how I roll. What about me says to you that I would enjoy this run-down, mutherfucking fraudulent joint? Coconut shrimp, fried calamari, ersatz Island music? Who the fuck do you think I am? I’m a published author god damn it. My special lady is an MD. Do you think she liked Okole Maluna? Fuck no. I’m lucky she’s talking to me.
For my entree I didn’t know what to do. I thought about the pineapple glaze pork shank, but I said, fuck that. I ordered the Furikake Ahi. What a disaster. Why would anyone fry yellow fin or put batter on it, for fuck’s sake? The wasabi sauce was somebody’s (your?) idea of a joke. She ordered the Loco Moco, thinking that it was fish. But it was sausage and gravy. I can’t begin to tell you what a cluster it was when that shit arrived, steaming meatly on the platter, glistening, burping in its own fluid.
I don’t know what to say. I really don’t. It’s as if you are trying to destroy me because I won the best sentence prize, and came close last year. You were once known for your word. What happened?
I think you’re Loco Moco, motherfucker.
My word is golden.
Good thing Dave missed the Balut. http://www.cnn.com/2014/02/05/travel/how-to-eat-balut/
I’ve lived here in Hi for 50 years and I wouldnt grace a Loco
Moco with a pile of corn laced shit.
Dog taste like pork.
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