To answer Bob:
I am eating a rare French songbird, covering my head with a napkin to shield from God the sinful act of consuming l'ortolan, which is consumed whole, bones and beak included. Its luscious juices squirt all over my face as I chew with great sadness, disgusted at my own gluttony. Eating the songbird is almost like foreplay, for there is a freshly-killed 2 lb. langouste awaiting me in the kitchen, upon which I plan to exact acts of lust so intense that I expect that it will revive itself after I remove its tail meat only to smack me across the face with one of its dense, meaty claws. After this rich meal I will recline on the divan nude while my personal band of strolling violinists serenade me with songs that WWI soldiers died to on the front in 1918. If I get cold I will ask my muscular African butler to fetch me a coverlet. I do not anticipate this happening, for we keep the drawing room quite warm all year long.
What are you doing?
Posted by Zerd at April 19, 2008 03:22 PM