Who’s in the kitchen?

goddess vaticanI do not eat yogurt.  I do not eat jam.  I do not drink juice.  Why did you shop?  This has sugar.  This has salt.  This has fat.  Do you want to know what I ate today?  I only had—when you shop, I starve!  Can’t you check the expiration?  You want to cook?  My body shudders in horror!  You want to cook.  My stomach is on fire.  When I hear you—why are you smiling like that?  You’re not a man.  Men go out and perform!  Why don’t you stare into space, you bastard!  Stare at the moon!  If you had to cook everyday, you wouldn’t enjoy it.  Don’t make so much, we’ll be eating it for days.  Don’t make so much, you’ll fill the fridge.  You’re doing it wrong.  Don’t cut it so small.  It won’t cook through.  I don’t want to taste the garlic.  What chef?  What recipe?  That fat chef, face bloated from eating?  Starve me and I wouldn’t eat that!  Kill me and I wouldn’t eat that.  It is brown.  It is yellow.  It is papaya orange.  Hurry up, I’m starving!  Who cooks for hours and hours?  Three hours.  I timed you.  No, I’ll eat now—I said I was starving.  So many flavors, fighting each other, it is disgusting.  I told you not to cook the beans that way.  I have a stomachache.  I feed you and I cook for you and I slave over you.  No one else would treat you the way I do.  Look at you, scrawny, you turn everything I give you into shit.  We may as well eat shit.  Skin and bones, go sit on the toilet!  Kill me!  Kill me!

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