(no subject)

Christ on toast! I've never had a sugar shock like this. Why can't I eat a large piece of carrot cake and two cookies (probably two day's worth of recommended carbohydrates) in two minutes and not be floored? I pine for the days of yore, when as a young lad I used to flit around town like a bird, eating several times my own body weight in sugar, and not feeling the least bit unusual afterward. Perhaps the secret is staying on a steady dose of sugar. It's snowing today. It looks like sugar falling from the sky. I think it is sugar. It makes the world look like a cake, ready for my consumption. Excuse me, must go out in yard and eat world.

Her superpower saves us all from sludgey doom.

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.