pantryslut: (Default)
I think I might like the short version better:

Let's get one thing straight:
most eggplants are not bitter
(even though they have every right to be
after everything that has been said about them.)
At least they are no more bitter than
a green bell pepper or the tannic skin of a fresh walnut.
They have a whisper of bitterness that
adds to the taste rather than ruining it. In fact,
it's that subtle edge that makes eggplant
such a great companion.
pantryslut: (Default)
(all text from Russ Parsons, How To Pick A Peach)

An eggplant is a thing of rare beauty.
Its form ranges from as blocky and solid
as a Botero sculpture
to as sinuous and flowing as
a Modigliani. Its color
can be the violet of a particularly magnificent sunrise
or as black as a starless night. It can be alabaster white
or even red-orange and ruffled.

And its beauty is more than skin-deep.
The flesh is at once luxurious in texture and
accomodating in flavor.

So why does the eggplant scare people?

Let's get one thing straight:
most eggplants are not bitter
(even though they have every right to be
after everything that has been said about them.)
At least they are no more bitter
than a green bell pepper or the tannic skin of a fresh walnut.
They have a whisper of bitterness
that adds to the taste rather than ruining it. In fact,
it's that subtle edge that makes eggplant
such a great companion.

For a vegetable that can look like such a brute, eggplant
is surprisingly fragile. It bruises easily, and
those bruises quickly turn bad.
Eggplants' thin skin is also susceptible to damage.

Salting the vegetable does nothing to remove bitterness
(which isn't really there in the first place)
but it does pull the water out of the eggplant,
collapsing the cells.
Try it and you'll see.
Salt eggplant only if you are going to fry it in oil.
Supposedly, if you cook eggplant
longer, it will release the oil it has absorbed.
This takes very slow, patient cooking, however,
over a long period of time.
pantryslut: (Default)
Let's see.

1. April has not repeated her escapist trick from the other night. Yet.

2. Both ladies are well into their rapid language acquisition phase. You know how it used to be a word a week? Now it feels like a word a day. At least.

3. Man, are they fun to hang out with right now. (You should come see for yourself! :) )

4. Man, are they tiring to hang out with right now.

5. April officially loves the outdoors. I had to take her for a walk up and down the block yesterday to keep her from having a total "I haven't been outside all week" meltdown the other day.

6. Simone likes to try to offer her sister toys, bottles, and other comfort objects when her sister is upset.

7. I suddenly have an affinity for Kyle Baker comics. Not like I didn't like him before.

8. It must be spring because I am full of mental energy. It's the physical energy that is sometimes lacking.

9. And the time.

10. Found work poem:

Birthday. Theme. Party. Gift.
Myths. Ideas. Unique. Unusual.
Uses. Benefits. Tips. Snack.
Importance. Alternative. Meaning.
Tea. Tattoo. Brunch.
pantryslut: (typewriter)
This is the piece I read at My Sucky Valentine--it's a riff off of Kay Jewelry's very annoying slogan "every kiss begins with Kay." So...

Other Things That Begin With K

K is also for kidnapping, as in, should you ever be kidnapped and held for ransom, you’ll be glad you held onto those diamonds your ex-lover gave you, even though you later figured out she bought you nice things like necklaces and roses every time she cheated on you.

K is for Kill, as in, “Trying to buy my love with mass-produced jewelry studded with ethically suspect diamonds kind of kills the romance.”

K is for Killjoy, as in, “stop trying to make me think about things like ethics and cultural expectations and oppression and stereotyping and alienation when I’m just trying to get laid, you big killjoy!” You may have guessed that I hear that one a lot.

K is for Kale, one of my favorite vegetables. It is not red and tender and sweet. It is dark and green and tough to chew. Now you know why it is one of my favorite vegetables.

K is for Kidney. Not heart. Kidney. It processes your waste and turns it into gold. For that, you should thank your kidney right now. Also, most of us have a kidney to spare, which cannot be said of your heart. Metaphorically or otherwise.

K is for Kick. Love is a habit that most of us can’t kick.

K is for King-Sized. Now that’s what I want for Valentine’s Day. Forget roses and chocolates and lingerie-clad teddy bears, and order me up a king-sized bed filled with a selection of my favorite morsels, please.

K is for kowtow, as in, I refuse to kowtow to oppressive capitalist ideas of manufactured, overpackaged, red, heart-shaped sentimentality. Reclaim red for revolution! Smash the state!

K is for Kook, which is what I sound like when I spout off about revolution like that.

K is for Kleptomaniac. Now that's sexy.

K is for Klutz, as in, you were a klutz with my heart the whole time we were dating.

K is for Kamikaze. A suicide mission glorified by romantic appeals to patriotism.

K is for Kvetch, which is what I’m doing now.

K is for Kaiser. Hooray for for-profit healthcare!

K is for Kerosene. Also sexy!

K is for Kibosh, as in, she put the kibosh on our relationship.

K is for Kaput.
pantryslut: (Default)
Gigantic snake between your legs
Have you ever considered currency trading?
pantryslut: (bitch)
Words I hate:

* Analytics.
* Brand.*
* Bright.
* Buzz.
* Clever.
* Currency.
* Deal.
* Demand.
* Driven.
* Goal.
* Identity.
* Networking.
* Niche.
* Performance.
* Practical.
* Smart.
* Traffic.
* Vision.

Words I like:

* Ambivalent.
* Carapace.
* Friend.
* Generalist.
* Intriguing.
* Revolt.

* Unless we're talking the application of fire, here.
pantryslut: (casual sex)
Interested in talking
I like strong women
Luv to see and luv to show
Hey there
Hi :)
Love BBW ladies, hope to chat
Mmmm, I'd love to hit it!
I Like a little bend
Discreet relationship
I'm a sexy man
Mutual respect and sexual satisfaction
Always looking for unconventional
Let's get together
Hey there
Very excited by your ad
I like your profile
Want sex
Want to talk?
I do
I am definitely interested

found poem

Jul. 11th, 2007 11:06 am
pantryslut: (vanilla)
love(40969) cock(27389) group(26673) head(22672) pussy(19603)
fuck(18617) lips(15212) suck(15114) pain(13676) black(13663)
tight(13319) master(13293) nipples(13057) tongue(12753) fucking(12496)
submissive(11879) breasts(10996) sucking(10991) lick(10368) control(10315)
panties(10278) clit(10209) balls(9894) orgasm(9573) giving(9567)
anal(9496) fantasy(9166) tied(8778) bdsm(8618) bottom(8472)
cunt(8448) throat(8359) sucked(8068) first time(8032) leather(8000)
straight(7903) thighs(7830) party(7762) chest(7717) forced(7631)
dark(7539) watched(7514) daddy(7409) rubbing(7142) wear(7021)
dominant(6670) email(6667) members(6512) water(6458) horny(6208)
bitch(6090) bondage(5925) stroke(5885) ankles(5853) couples(5834)
kissing(5768) load(5755) spanking(5730) training(5402) phone(5350)
erotic(5270) stomach(5264) dildo(5220) rape(5212) release(5139)
kinky(5125) stroking(5061) shower(5041) weekend(4966) bound(4903)
cumming(4772) rubbed(4757) curious(4738) whore(4710) penis(4703)
desires(4691) dirty(4668) touching(4653) collar(4648) shaft(4645)
service(4553) punishment(4400) bare(4387) lust(4382) travel(4376)
shoulder(4252) hung(4243) fetish(4193) blood(4150) piss(4142)
touched(4135) erect(4096) bend(4033) crotch(3850) strokes(3849)
rope(3843) limits(3830) heels(3827) belly(3765) humiliation(3735)
pantryslut: (Default)
(very rough draft)

Yes, I let him lead me to the bathroom.
Yes, I let him put his hands underneath my skirt.
Yes, I watched him wash them in the sink first.
Yes, he used a condom.
Yes, he didn't ask for my phone number.
Yes, I didn't ask for his.
Yes, he probably thought I was a slut
Yes, he probably thought I was fat
Yes, he probably thought I was fat and easy and gross and
Yes, not girlfriend material and
Yes, not much better than Kleenex and
Yes, not even worth taking home for a night and
Yes, certainly not worth cooking breakfast for and
Yes, I know, and
Yes, I fucked him anyway.
Yes, I came.
Yes, he came.
Yes, he came with relief on his face and
Yes, vulnerability, exposure, that was there too and
Yes, that's what I really look for and
Yes, that's what really excites me and
Yes, that's why I'll do it again, because
Yes, I will never know what he really thought of me and
Yes, he will never know what I thought of him and
Yes, that's the secret, I don't know and I don't care and
Yes, we were really just using each other and
Yes, I am OK with that and
Yes, it was easy.
Yes, I liked it.
Yes, I will do it again. But not with him.
pantryslut: (Default)
In Praise of Chopped Liver

Chopped liver is terrible for you.
Though high in protein and iron,
it has enough fat and cholesterol to kill a small army.
Even as a young child I knew that the liver, like the kidneys,
is a garbage dump for waste products,
certainly not something to be ingested.

It's not elegant like pate.
It has not gained the homey comfort level of liverwurst.
It is lumpy, gray and, well,
it doesn't smell quite right.

I managed to avoid chopped liver for the first half of my life.
And then it happened.
While my initial reaction was revulsion,
I quickly came to understand what everybody had been clamoring about.
Its flavor was exciting but its texture was comfortable.
At the same time exotic and familiar,
it was truly and undeniably delicious.
I had tasted my first chopped liver.

The components of chopped liver are mundane at best, but the union of
liver, sautéed onions and hard-boiled eggs
transcends the ordinary nature of the raw materials.

The flavor stays true to its humble ingredients
yet when they are ground together
they become haunting and rich.
It is reminiscent of the flavors of the farm
but with a depth that reaches far beyond.
Chopped liver may be peasant food but
even peasants deserve to indulge.

It transforms the plain into the sublime.

(All text found at There's a recipe, too.)

Poem #3

Oct. 10th, 2006 02:03 pm
pantryslut: (Default)
What I miss:
being so intimate with that part of you
that all euphemisms fall away --
no more rosebud, no more sunburst,
no more black-eyed Susan (or Samson, for you)
Perhaps only one metaphor for your anus
will still serve:
I've seen it pucker like it wants a kiss.
It doesn't yawn, but I swear sometimes
it smiles.
pantryslut: (Default)
(from this entry)

1. (slightly modified from the original)

I have
that it is
not worth
my time
to learn
to spell
much less
write a poem about it.


Anita wore sparkly panties
for her turn on the trampoline.
She sewed on each sequin herself.
They were cut full and high,
and they were white.
The sequins gleamed silver in the summer sun.
Anita felt like a majorette
without a baton. She didn't need one.
She had a pleated skirt, navy blue,
flipping up, again and again.

new poem

Aug. 29th, 2006 08:39 am
pantryslut: (Default)
Any relationship to current events in my life is completely coincidental.

Three Dreams of Teeth

poetry inside! )
pantryslut: (Default)
* I will marry the man (or woman) who can bring me a donut peach.

* I want to make out with your husband.

* Heirloom vegetables are folk music for the mouth.

* This tomato tastes like a banjo.

* The hybrid seed does not run true.

* I will wear a blushing gown.
pantryslut: (Default)
dry aged for a week at my desk
I head for my massage on Friday night
for an hour of tenderizing
then marinate all weekend
awaiting the grill.


May. 11th, 2006 10:20 am
pantryslut: (Default)
(written for [ profile] cindymonkey yesterday, just because)

This morning
I had a crush on the world
but then it started acting
like a ten year old boy
who shows his affection
by putting snails in my lunchbox
and pulling my hair
so I'm angry at the world
and his inane little giggle
I want to push his face in the mud
and sit on his chest
and pull his hair
then he'll know
I love him too.
pantryslut: (Default)
Related Searches:

* valentine
* love
* human brain
* ann and nancy wilson
* circle
* cross
* star
* organs
* shamrock
* tiffany
* real human brain
* brain
* valentines day
pantryslut: (Default)
It took me six months to write a poem for your wedding;
the marriage was over after three.
pantryslut: (Default)
You belong in California

because baby, I don't eat breakfast cereal any more.
pantryslut: (Default)
(still a draft)

Dirty But Not Cheap, Or, Luxury Goods

1. Easy To Love, Hard To Fuck

I don't have a chastity belt.
I do have a ring's worth of keys.

Penetrating my body is easy.
Picking locks is hard.
But I know what's found behind them:

Buried treasure.

2. Thirty-Second Speech On Why You Should Fuck Me

I talk dirty, but not cheap.

I have no shame.

I come so hard that on hot summer nights, the neighbors like to bring out their lawn chairs to listen.

3. Fuck You

Sometimes I wonder:

Broadcast tower or stereo receiver?

Amplifier or speaker stack?

Input or put out?

4. Flood

You say you like a tease, so
I am going to say this
with all my clothes on.

Underneath these clothes
I am wet for you
I am wet all the time for you
I have laundry bills like you wouldn't believe
for you

I bought a mattress cover for you
I wore it out for you

I hear that in the highest of high-end hotels
The suites have their own private fountain in the room
Install me in your bed, baby
And you've got your own luxury suite.


pantryslut: (Default)

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