Are her breasts real? Minnesota Ryan asks hypothetically.
Don't question it, I reply, they're performing beautifully! Pointing upward and multiplying in tongue-colored fleshes of various market-fresh animals, the breasts have supplied us with a party's worth of conversation as well as dinner.
In a glimmer of Midwestern friendliness, I try to feed a piece to the girl to whom we owe this bounty but she politely refuses. Right, that would be strange. I go back to talking to Ryan, who has just dripped soy sauce onto her wrist.
This is incredible, we marvel, The children here grow up eating like this every day.
What were you raised on? I ask my countryman.
Spam hot dish. You know, with the macaroni?
Yeah, I know. Did you ever have an Eat-Spam-Hot-Dish-Off-A-Naked-Woman's-Body party?
Naw.
Me neither.
We share a smile, a common story. A heritage.
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3 comments:
Can you imagine Russel at a naked sushi bar!? He'd be laughing nervously (his defense mechanism laugh)and saying "Oh my God" over and over and over... Makes me smile just thinking about it. Ha!
Hmm... Ideas for next year.
Thank you so much for share this wonderful collection.
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