If you marry me, I will feed us big hearty country meals.
Just last night I was thinking while making some really effing good eggs and mushrooms on toast: “The man who marries me will be one lucky bastard. Hurry the hell up man where the fuck are you.”
From ideas involved in THIS conversation.
[Indistinct shouting - plates breaking - fire on a cooktop - food spilling]
John Watson wakes up, panting
Cut To: Interior of Pizza Parlor - a secluded booth in the corner.
Manager: John. You were a Cordon Bleu chef with five Michelin stars….
SOMEBODY REMIND ME THAT IT IS A BAD IDEA TO READ CRACKFIC WHEN I’M SUPPOSED TO BE A TEACHER ADMIN’ING TESTS.
THIS IS SO WONDERFULLLLL
give it to me om nom nom italai
I need to bake some bread soon. Perhaps tonight.
I think I’ll try making something like this over the summer…