Trauma

Feb. 3rd, 2005 12:02 pm
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So I'm eating a sandwich. And Dominic is sitting here. Asks what's on it cause it smells really good. (Grilled chicken, asiago cheese, pesto and roasted peppers on foccacia for the record) Suddenly, he's rhapsodizing (is that a word) about how perfect the sandwich is and how it's turning him on. So now I have to eat the sandwich, knowig that Dominic is lusting and fantasizing about my sandwich. He keeps asking me to tell him what's on it again.

OK....tthis is just ridiculous. *Finishes sandwich and goes off in search of tea before shift starts*

Date: 2005-02-03 05:26 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] penguinicity.livejournal.com
"...Then I take the knife and SLOWLY dip it into the mayonaisse. I pull it out and gaze at it softly glistening on the hard metal blade. Then I RUB it onto the waiting asiago bread OVER and OVER..."

Date: 2005-02-03 07:20 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] fuego.livejournal.com
You're sick.

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