So, that was new

So, my dear buddy GayBoy has come over, laden with a Scrabble board, sushi, chicken karaage, and DVDs (Team America, A Mighty Wind, and The Big Lebowski. And a tiny bit of ganja. We're having the first and the last of that list).

What you need to know is that I can be a culinary wimp. Now, I'm awesome cooking, right? But, boy, I pussy out of a lot of taste adventures. Asian food, frankly, terrifies me. They eat cats and dogs!

I know, I'm stereoytyping, I really just have a total paranoia of their conception of the exotic. I mean, if I never started this ramble (and GayBoy's standing at my right shoulder, in a constant dialogue with me as I fucking type. This is so hard, what with the ADD and all!) I would never have learned that my dear friend GayBoy, who has this thing about veal, has eaten a POOCH.

Shocked, after he told me "canine of unknown variety," I said:

"They don't tell you what kind?"

"Oh, god, no! I wouldn't want to know that! It's dog, I knew it was dog, and I decided to eat dog. I don't want to know its name!"

Apparently it was a Californian dog. Bet it had a tan.

Anyhow, I'm a pussy. Despite being, you know, feline-ish and pussy-like, I hate the concept of sushi. Raw fish?

But, since I'm kinda going out with this guy who's into all this shit, GayBoy absolutely knows he has an advantage: leverage. He's pressuring me double hard about Asian shit and peer-pressuring me into it now. He's white, but a total egg. Crack the skin and he's yellow, he says.

I ate sushi. Not one, but two. And not just cucumber sushi or anything -- tuna and salmon. They biggies. And I didn't gag. Not once. I feel like such a grown-up! Yay me!

And last week I had muskox prosciutto with the Guy, but that was a failure. Eww. Gamey and salty and overpowering. But I tried.

Weird puppeering awaits.