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September 17, 2002
so tasha left me.
i always seem to have the greatest ideas about how to please a woman. and i'm always dead wrong. i think, really, the problem is that i'm a visionary. i'm just terribly brilliant. and being terribly brilliant (and innovative) means that you are often going to be misunderstood. it's the mark of genius.
like personally, i thought it was pretty original for me to want to introduce spare ribs into my sex life with tasha. i mean, sure anyone can think of using honey, whipped cream...or bananas. and who hasn't tried a few brussel sprouts???? come on, now! yeah, that's right! i know i'm not alone in that!!
but spare ribs. now that takes a creative mind. oh yeah. i know you can see it. that's right. those greasy, splintery shards of crisp pork. the slick little bones. the charred edges, the DUCK SAUCE for crying out loud. i was workin it.
ah, well. i was getting tired of her anyway. she did all this weird looking at you shit. you know? like...like lookin at you, an' shit. it was fucked, man. like...what are you looking at? you know? like, fucking freaky. so fuck that.
yeah, fuck that. i'm glad it hurts when she laughs too hard. it will keep her in check. damn. and i smothered those things in duck sauce. it shoulda been a cakewalk.
maybe i shouldn't have heated them up in the microwave first.
eh, anyway. enough of that. that shit's getting me down. i'm hungry.
SUPERMILK is an expert Squeezer of Lemon, Thumber of Nose, and Navigator of Moronity. His mark can be found on the Bedpan of Hammurabi, the forehead of Dagonet, and the office stationery of Jorge Bourgoise. Additionally, he braised this tender piece of monkeymeat at 7:31 PM
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