Today's catch, minus a few hunnert cherry 'maters. Check out them heirloom purple and yeller tomizzles! Sliced 'em up, thawed out a puff pastry, threw on some Parmesan, some moose-o-rella, a little garlic and some olive oil, threw it in the old cookarino, sprinkled with garden-fresh basil and Voyla!
I could eat this every goddamn night, it's so tomazing... toe! Though if I did, my colon would be like the "HydroBlaster" ride that Mr. Z was on last week at Michigan's Adventure. Actually, it would be more like the "Funnel of Fear." Or "Logger's Run," "Timbertown Railway," or "Speed Splashers." (See, basically, I'm saying that it would be unwise for me to eat it every day because the acidity from all the tomatoes would fuck up my stomach and make me shit a whole lot. But I used the water rides from the amusement park as a way of suggesting such tummy turmoil, without actually getting too graphic. But then I mentioned the shitting part anyway, so it was really all for naught. Oh well.)
Tart-ta for now.
1 comment:
I dunno why but for some reason this post reminded me of the lyrics of my fav song of the moment, Happy Holidays You Bastard by Blink... in the off chance you are unfamiliar with the Bard-like beauty of these lyrics, here ya go: http://www.lyricsondemand.com/b/blink182lyrics/happyholidaysyoubastardlyrics.html
lol
-- Pete, your strange Grinnell friend
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