OH....MY....GAAAWD!!!!
I HAD CHEESCAKE!!!!! I....HAD...CHEEESECAKE!!! Aw man what a relief it was to finally have some cheescake on my cheat day **I'm allowed one cheat day to deviate from my diet, remember?** It was satisfying but not as satisfying as it could have been. Let me run it down to yall...
Okay, it was a friend's birthday so 8 of us went to Olive Garden (the place that serves the cheeeesecake I love so much) to celebrate. We had the FUNNIEST time. Everyone was crackin' "lightskinnded & skillet" jokes left and right in good humor. We ordered our meals, had a few drinks, made more jokes. I ordered the Veal Parmisan... "mmmm mmm mmm", I thought, "What a great meal for a cheat day". I had it all planned out. I was finally going to have me some cheeeesecake for dessert. First came the meal. My mouth was wetter than a woman gettin ready to be fukked by her favorite soap opera star. Just before my plate reached the table, however, one of the ladies that was celebrating with us mentioned how veal comes from a baby cow. I was just like, "Cool. I've been waiting for my dead baby cow all week. Bring it on." THEN the waitress says, "Yeah, and they keep it locked up in a very small cage all its life to prevent it from moving so the meat can be very tender." I was like, "For real?" Next thing I know, other members at the table are telling me how veal is prepared... from the day it's born. One girl stated, "Can you imagine what it's like? Living your WHOLE (she really put an emphasis on 'whole') life in pain and discomfort just to be slaughtered for tender meat?" I tried my hardest to play it off like I always have but for some reason I couldn't this time. I could not put that in the back of my head. That poor dead calf that lay on my plate. Now, normally I really don't give a muthafukk, but that night I actually felt bad. My stomach was not immune for once. Well, I ended up only taking two bites of dead calf that rested in peace (or should I say, 3 peaces) next to my pasta. I kept saying to myself "Don't let it have died in vain. Eat the poor, tortured, dead calf" but I just couldn't do it. My stomach was already feeling nautious... so I just continued with our jokes and whatnot and having a good time. Every now and then I'd stop with the jokes and stare at my poor, tortured, dead mammal and think that maybe I should name him... name him Henry.... poor Henry...
As if that wasn't enough, I got a lil perturbed when they took the plate away, after asking me if I'd had enough, and I looked that almost all the food was still there. I'd spent damn near 20 bucks on a fukking plate of deceased cow and fancy rammen noodles... FUKK, what a waste of money. Anywayz, dessert time came. Everybody was too full to eat dessert but I'd been waiting for this all week. **SIDE THOUGHT: Maybe I got nautious for a reason. Maybe it was to save room for that cheeeesecake... I tells ya, God works in mysterious ways. END SIDE THOUGHT** A group of waitresses came out singing happy birthday to our friend and guess what kind of cake they brought out... guess!!! Raspberry cheeeesecake...mmmmmmmm. Well, she ended up being too full to eat so she passed it down the table to moi. I tell you, something happened that defied modern physics as we know it. At normal atmospheric pressure and temperature, the delicious raspberry cheesecake literally turned into a gas phase and I inhaled it with one breath. Okay, maybe that didn't literally happen but it might as well have. I took that fukkin cake down like it was Sanaa Lathan butt naked on my bed next to a baby oiled Eva Mendes. The thing is, although it tasted good at that very moment, the nausea that was in my stomach prevented that feeling of euphoria to last. It was like being pulled over by the cops when you're in the middle of being high, you lose that shit quick as the fukk. I don't know, but I'm bout ready to go again and get me some more cheeeesecake this weekend. This time though, I won't order the veal... in fact, I don't think I'll order veal ever again. From here on out, it's gonna be chicken, cuz at least I've seen in documentaries how they're slaughtered and I've developed an immunity to that.
Okay, it was a friend's birthday so 8 of us went to Olive Garden (the place that serves the cheeeesecake I love so much) to celebrate. We had the FUNNIEST time. Everyone was crackin' "lightskinnded & skillet" jokes left and right in good humor. We ordered our meals, had a few drinks, made more jokes. I ordered the Veal Parmisan... "mmmm mmm mmm", I thought, "What a great meal for a cheat day". I had it all planned out. I was finally going to have me some cheeeesecake for dessert. First came the meal. My mouth was wetter than a woman gettin ready to be fukked by her favorite soap opera star. Just before my plate reached the table, however, one of the ladies that was celebrating with us mentioned how veal comes from a baby cow. I was just like, "Cool. I've been waiting for my dead baby cow all week. Bring it on." THEN the waitress says, "Yeah, and they keep it locked up in a very small cage all its life to prevent it from moving so the meat can be very tender." I was like, "For real?" Next thing I know, other members at the table are telling me how veal is prepared... from the day it's born. One girl stated, "Can you imagine what it's like? Living your WHOLE (she really put an emphasis on 'whole') life in pain and discomfort just to be slaughtered for tender meat?" I tried my hardest to play it off like I always have but for some reason I couldn't this time. I could not put that in the back of my head. That poor dead calf that lay on my plate. Now, normally I really don't give a muthafukk, but that night I actually felt bad. My stomach was not immune for once. Well, I ended up only taking two bites of dead calf that rested in peace (or should I say, 3 peaces) next to my pasta. I kept saying to myself "Don't let it have died in vain. Eat the poor, tortured, dead calf" but I just couldn't do it. My stomach was already feeling nautious... so I just continued with our jokes and whatnot and having a good time. Every now and then I'd stop with the jokes and stare at my poor, tortured, dead mammal and think that maybe I should name him... name him Henry.... poor Henry...
As if that wasn't enough, I got a lil perturbed when they took the plate away, after asking me if I'd had enough, and I looked that almost all the food was still there. I'd spent damn near 20 bucks on a fukking plate of deceased cow and fancy rammen noodles... FUKK, what a waste of money. Anywayz, dessert time came. Everybody was too full to eat dessert but I'd been waiting for this all week. **SIDE THOUGHT: Maybe I got nautious for a reason. Maybe it was to save room for that cheeeesecake... I tells ya, God works in mysterious ways. END SIDE THOUGHT** A group of waitresses came out singing happy birthday to our friend and guess what kind of cake they brought out... guess!!! Raspberry cheeeesecake...mmmmmmmm. Well, she ended up being too full to eat so she passed it down the table to moi. I tell you, something happened that defied modern physics as we know it. At normal atmospheric pressure and temperature, the delicious raspberry cheesecake literally turned into a gas phase and I inhaled it with one breath. Okay, maybe that didn't literally happen but it might as well have. I took that fukkin cake down like it was Sanaa Lathan butt naked on my bed next to a baby oiled Eva Mendes. The thing is, although it tasted good at that very moment, the nausea that was in my stomach prevented that feeling of euphoria to last. It was like being pulled over by the cops when you're in the middle of being high, you lose that shit quick as the fukk. I don't know, but I'm bout ready to go again and get me some more cheeeesecake this weekend. This time though, I won't order the veal... in fact, I don't think I'll order veal ever again. From here on out, it's gonna be chicken, cuz at least I've seen in documentaries how they're slaughtered and I've developed an immunity to that.
The Saga was recounted at 9:00 PM
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