that I was eating from a smooth white porcelain bowl that was positively teeming with supple, succulent peas. Ecstatically vivid, lustrous, with the sheen of just a touch of butter; shapely and undimpled, bouncing back a little against every bite; vegetal, nutty, everything that canned peas are not. Each bite was an exclamatory statement of rollicking verdancy, and the abundant peas spilled up and over one another, begging me to plunge my fingers deep into the crowded bowl.
1. How is it that I remember this figment of a meal with more detail and enthusiasm than I remember most of my real-life meals these days?
2. What’s up, subconscious? Other people dream of falling, flying, or fighting off mystical creatures. Peas? Really?
3. Can somebody – quickly! - help me track down a bowl of fresh peas that exactly fits this description?
One problem: it’s utterly the wrong season for fresh peas!
I don’t believe you…
You should see the movie Amelie if you haven’t. You’re wanting to dip your fingers in the bowl reminded me of a scene in the beginning.
i dreamed of a smooth white porcelain dildo that was positively teeming with vaginal juices. i would try to continue imitating this post but your level of douchiness is unimaginable.
PS that sounds absolutely delicious
Not a surprise since I go to the #1 douchiest school in America. Brown IP address? Classy. Had I not surmised your douchiness by the fact that you’re up late at night reading and commenting on my blog, I guess the Brown IP would’ve given it away.
See you around campus!
-Rémy