I got up and felt a dim spark of happiness remembering that I had a slice of spinach and feta quiche in the refrigerator. I tossed it in the microwave and then consumed it with considerable gusto. Real men don't eat it, they said. Do you remember that? Baby, I eat it real good, I'll tell you what.
A real man (whatever that is), I imagine, eats whatever the heck he wants to eat. French pronunciation isn't something that's going to deter him for a second. A real man would be undaunted - in fact delighted - by a fluffy combination of eggs and cheeses atop a flaky crust. A real man might even regard that delicious morsel wolfishly and involuntarily shout out something like hubba hubba!
I like this very much! 'Hubba hubba' was so funny~
ReplyDeletePlease allow me to disagree, for it should have been made a fest for the senses, each; most likely to be obtained by sharing what is to be eaten, celebrated in together-ness, which is a demand, for whatever is to be understood as real. In my humble opinion.
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