Sunday, November 3, 2013

To the Man I Marry...

Considering that my previous post was about my fear of swelling up like a beach ball, whether through poor eating habits, a lethargic exercise regimen, or some tragic metabolic failure, I know this is going to sound like some straight bullshit, but I think I'm in love...with spaghetti w/fried fish on the side.  Go ahead. Judge me.
I'd first heard about this ridiculous combination of "main dishes" when I was a freshman in college, and met my neighbors from Memphis.  Well, I hadn't given it much thought until today, when I stumbled on a thread on Facebook about spaghetti.  Then someone mentioned fried fish on the side, and bam!  My dinner menu was planned.
I even went out and bought a fancy new electric deep fryer.  And let me tell you, deep fryers have come a long way since my grandma's Fry Daddy days.  No splattering.  No burnt oil.  No burnt food.  Lovely.
Well, long story short:  Yum and yum.  Not orgasmic *yum yum* but something to the effect of pleasantly pleasing *yum yum.*
Which brings me to a semi-unrelated-related note.  Although I haven't a clue who or where he is, I had such an enjoyable meal this evening, that I feel fairly certain that my future husband will be the man who makes me a meal of spaghetti and fried fish.
Yeah. Sounds like bullshit to me, too, but that's where my head is at right now.

But seriously. I could really use more of this in my life. 

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