Oh. Gross. The guy's doing a salt water gurgle and spitting right into the kitchen sink, and well, that shouldn't happen on a Saturday morning, especially in front of an audience (ME).
We'll pretend like that never happened. 'kay?
...watching the Hubs make cheese and bacon omelettes for us for breakfast.
My cup of very much caffeinated coffee is steaming next to me and its lovely soothing aroma is making my morning even better, while my mind has already wandered off to the braai this afternoon. A braai resplendent with what I could very likely survive on for the rest of my life if someone gave me the chance I needed to - lamb chops and riblets.
Oh, juicy lamb fat! I wish I could write poetry apart from the dirty and not at all inventive limericks all containing the words rock and lard, or the partly rhyming compositions on my love for Billy Idol/ Axl Rose/ that guy with a really long name from the show Saved by the Bell, that no self-respecting teen-magazine editor would let slip into their publication, not even into the 'Letters from our Readers' column.
If I could, I would write an ode to lamb.
Oh wait. I think I already have. At least three times right here on this blog. Uhhuh. Yup. I have.
Where exactly am I going with this?
Well, a while back my bloggy friend Kim from Albuquerque did a post that got me thinking about my favorite foods (and capital punishment and being a cook at a penitentiary, and...).
She also did one on the healthcare discussion which I totally agreed with. Just to let you know, that, well, I'm pretty smart and politically aware too. I am. It's not all about farts. Nope. Not at all.
What would I order as my last meal on death row?
Which I'm deathly against. The executing part, not the meal. See, I'm aware.
Ah, Ext. This is a tough one....NOT!
I would have an avocado with salt, a couple of boiled eggs with salt, and lamb riblets and chops (with salt). And I would wash it all down with coffee, and a Galpin Peak Pinot Noir followed by a 1800 añejo tequila chaser if they let me.
And now I'm thinking what the above says about me. And I'm not sure I come off as completely sane. But hey, what's sanity compared to honesty, eh?
Oh look! The tequila just made a new friend.
What do you think? What would you have as your last meal?
