< my sister won't eat bacon fat on Christmas or any other day >

[rayheinrich]

I wasn't sure what this was, the title on the ticker read "my sister won't eat bac..."  As you can see, such could lead on into some very dark places, so I clicked on it and was disappointed to say the least.

I knew a girl named  Sherry, didn't care for the taste of her a bit. I did use to like a touch of apricot brandy around the holiday seasons, or if I was feeling adventuresome a little Yukon Jack. Surprising, "Wild Turkey Liqueur" was quite tasty, if a bit cloying. Good for late in the evening, after a heavy meal not expecting any sort of action that night while looking out over the lights of Albuquerque. Ah "Norwegian Wood, isn't it good?"

I use to make everything from scratch, but people's palates are so unrefined these days there really isn't a point.

All in all, very Rowen-esque.

dale

It's my other sister you're thinking about; her sexual proclivities are so multitudinous and
so diverse that they overlap and can not, in all honesty, be called proclivities at all.

I'm drinking "Kentucky Gentleman" bourbon and Coke Zero at the moment. While I'd never mix good
bourbon with coke (not even ice or water for that matter), it's not, so I do. I'm expecting some action
tonight, it's called "feeding the cats" (now that DOES sound pretty dark, don't it?).

I have never tried apricot brandy on a vagina before, you are quite the swashbuckler.

I don't care about other people's palates, when I'm cooking it's my palate I'm trying to please.
(Of course, since I truly love "Kentucky Gentleman" [but, in its defense, it's a genuine straight bourbon,
rough but honest, NOT blended crap], I can hardly call my palate discerning.

"Rowen-esque", a magnificent compliment in my book (er, poem). When people go on about
him being incomprehensible, I think: "No, he's not incomprehensible; you're dimly witted."
He has such remarkable insights into about fucking everything; or maybe it's just that I'm
in tune with his  incomprehensibilities.

Ray