Thursday, April 22, 2010

a hungarian bastard

Sometimes, I begin to convince myself that the purpose in life is to eat, eat and then eat some more. Then, I check on my weighing scale, fret for a day and continue eating the next day. Talk about hopeless, I’m eat(it).

The truth is there is nothing I could possibly love more than food. Love at first sight with an actual person, takes too many different factors to intertwine, whereas love with food is easy peasy. I find myself talking about food with most people whose paths have crossed mine. I will speak of it in the highest regard, and salivate profusely. Disgustingly me, deliciously food.

The saying “Better to have love and lost, than never loved at all” seems inappropriate for loving food is always a (weight) gain. Oh, how I yearn of you. Till we meet again for dinner tonight… I’ll be thinking about you.

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