Dearest Whitey,
I do not like ribs. Never have, probably never will. However. Your ribs made me see God. As I took my first bite, the sun broke through the stormy Bellingham clouds - angels sang sweet songs of joy in my ear. Never before have I enjoyed eating slabs of sauce-covered meat and chunks of succulent fat. Never again will I taste a spanish mambo on my tongue.
And never again will I desire floss after a meal as much as I did when I ate your ribs.
Thank you for the best distraction from studying accounting a girl could want. If that's how they taste after sitting in tupperware in my fridge for over a week, I can't even imagine what would happen if I were to eat them freshly-made.
Sincerely,
Chelsea, slightly off-kilter now that the love is gone
... but mostly gratuitous ego-boosting
1 comment:
Amen on the wanting floss. And as for distracting you from hum-drum normal life stuff, well...that's what I'm here for. Glad you liked them. The grunts and sauce-covered smiles of my roomies seem like insults compared to your heartwarming praise. You made my day.
-Whitey
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