this is, like, the dream/nightmare of any self-respecting Man (we're talking of Real Man here, not some lady-boy or Aitchisonian, mind you). endless supplies of delicious, hot porridge (if you thought the dream was being married to the woman on the cover of the book, i feel sorry for you my friend..wannabe talibans are not my thing..not yet, anyway..in any case, she ain't devout enough..i can still see her hair and her wrists, and fuck, any woman that allows all that food to waste has serious problems).
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there are only two types of people in the world: believers and infidels. the former comprise: kashmiris (and maybe jews), people who wear hats, and people who like porridge.
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and damn the political correctness brigade to hell..i'm gonna say it. on the other hand there is everyone else ( excluding anton and roxana, who i forgive these november days).
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and the moral of the story, b?
....
4 comments:
she looks pretty traumatized for having to eat that thing...
infidel mani
ps a good weekend to you, b.
art thou an infidel, mani?
oh, how disappointing :-(
just when we were getting along...who would have thouht that a blossoming friendship would be ruined over porridge.
the horror , the trauma is not in eating it..i'm sure our little peasant could gobble it all down. perhpas with an endless supply of anything good, the good loses its charm.
keep well,
b.
well... i don't wear hats, i'm neither kashmiri nor jew, and just from hearing about it, i afraid i don't like porridge yet (already?). and you didn't exclude me, so... but our friendship blossomed over cinnamon rolls, if you remember, so with such a strong foundation, how could it be ruined? particularly over something as puny as porridge :)
ok, ok, i won't cross the street to get it, but if it materializes in a bowl in front of me, i'll give it a try.
Well, then I will have to pardon you as well dear child...
have a great weekend.
b.
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