I single-handedly made you this lasagna.
Via The Misanthropic Bitch's latest email transmission, and in response to the recent story concerning a delicious student prank, I was pleased finally to find a book that answers a complaint I've had for years: Why can't my food be saltier and invoke an aftertaste of bleach?
(We've covered this before, by the way, ad nauseum—emphasis on the "nauseum.")
6 Comments:
Goddamnit Arlo. Goddamnit.
That sounds delicious.
Why don't you nut harvesting throat jockeys take your semen encrusted undies down to the laundromat once in a while instaed of licking them clean. And if you mention 'snowballing' I'm going to come over there and rip your eyebrows off.
- a disgruntled employee
Don't be silly, disgruntled employee. Fresh herbs are much more flavorful than dried ones. Thus, as everyone knows, semen has to be fresh, too. Who wants to rehydrate semen?
"…nut harvesting throat jockeys"? I don’t think that kind of language is necessary. It's so crude. While I can't speak for Arlo, I adamantly insist that I'm not a jockey of any kind. Furthermore, "harvesting" is not something that I do. I spend my free time watching movies, boiling pasta, and occasionally napping.
Speaking of male biology, check this out
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