lemonkid

I wish I was a hot arty vegetarian girl and not just so I could come up with exciting new uses for broccoli - my only current use is a divine Cream of Broccoli soup with a pine nut pesto.

The real reason is so I could fuck peeled. For serious.

I mean if you had a guy who slaved away for 2 days in the kitchen to produce a spectacular 10 course (!!) vegetarian Christmas dinner for 10 of his close friends I mean come on. Come on people.

There were cheese platters, mini-quiche with avocado mohawks, a salad course, half a dozen other delicious plates and an elaborate dessert that was plated like something from an pricey resto. (and tasted fucking fantastic)

I was glad I defaulted to bringing some excellent beverages - an elegant creamy local sparkling cider and a clear smooth maple whisky, which I enjoyed among many glasses of various glasses of vairous red wines.

The only (slight) downside of the evening was that I knew everyone there and therefore there was no one to flirt with. I made up for it by teasing wolfmystique and grossing her out with my (temporary, now shaved) moustache. I had earlier in the day by request granted a beautiful girl 6 hours of "moustache access" because she really has a thing for moustaches. It was weird. For a few hours I was enveloped in the persona of a child molester / 70s porn star / RCMP officer.

I think I might have to buy a few more bottles of maple whisky though. That's the stuff dreams are made of.

Well my delicious debaucherous Dionysian ones anyways, and those are the ones I care for the most.