When I think about cheating on my diet, I look at this. It kills any craving for carbs. Or food. In fact, if you have an Italian restaurant you want to drive out of business–I don’t know why, this is your hypothetical construct–just put this in front, see their business wither like a discount bell pepper.
Have you considered the inner life of your pasta dish? Its wants, its needs, its petty jealousies? The fierce passions that govern meatballs? The duplicitous nature of fettuccine?
Well, we know it’s fresh pasta, at least.
Looking at this in extreme closeup, it looks WAY too much like the horrible, fat-covered semimuscular tissue of something like a “Hutt” from Star Wars. I’m not going to eat ever again.
I’m pretty sure this was a squeaky toy, it’s got that pre-chewed look to it. If so, have you ever seen a squeaky toy with this much drama? There’s story here, there’s real narrative. Love and betrayal and…pasta.
Goodwill on Parmer near I35, Austin
One Response to “*hork*”
It’s Mrs Jabba the Hutt.