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So, I'm sitting on the couch, wavering between attraction and revulsion. My wife, you see, is sitting beside me, eating Marmite straight from the jar, as she is wont to do. I realize that she's saving the world from that jar of marmite, but does she have to do it in front of me? She slowly dips her fingers into the little brown jar, then lifts them to her mouth, where she langorously sucks the brownish black ooze from her nimble fingertips. It's revolting, it's sexy, it's probably the most disgustingly alluring thing she could ever do.
So I asked her, "Could you do anything more disgusting? Is there anything more stomach-turning that eating marmite straight from the jar?"
She held that little jar up to the light and gazed at it. Smiling sweetly, she turned to me and said, "Well, it could be Bovril."
She wins again.
So I asked her, "Could you do anything more disgusting? Is there anything more stomach-turning that eating marmite straight from the jar?"
She held that little jar up to the light and gazed at it. Smiling sweetly, she turned to me and said, "Well, it could be Bovril."
She wins again.
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Date: 2003-01-31 03:31 am (UTC)My sister is vegan and she eats the hell out of that stuff. I stare in horror.