I canβt identify the emotion this womanβs commentary is making me feel
olive you canβt leave this in the tags
Transcription courtesy of @upsidedownvanilla
βA Rolex on your wrist, brown onion, yes, melanin for the winninβ. Rosemary. Why God must have delivered those oils himselves. The peas take a bath. The break. The cut. The purΓ©e. Thank you for straining that. Why, livers, yes, the neighbors of the lungs. People sleep on livers; I prefer mines in brown gravy, drenched over a bed of white rice. The way you folded that into the flour: delivered by the angels. You have laid the liver to rest in a skillet of hot oil. The vampires are shooketh. The garlic is overpowering. Be careful; methheads see that torch and theyβre gonna go crazy. Artwork on a plate. It feels as though Iβm preparing myself for an interview with Hannibal Lecter. The wine is always decadent. You, sir, have misbehavedβ
