The Wordler Fumbed*

I have these phases where I'm totally dyslexic. I get people's phone numbers wrong periodically, even after knowing them for years. The other day, GayBoy and I were out shopping for food and I was talking about my recipe I was on the verge of making, and I was talking about the ingredients. "...gotta get some parslo and cilantry--"

"Um. Parslo and cilantry?" I muttered again, intrigued by the sound. I would up saying it about four times, and the "relatively new to the shore" (because I hate the phrase "fresh off the boat") cashier was as confused as all fuck 'cos we were laughing to beat all, so she just stood there punching in items and smiling politely. Ha-ha, yes. Mm-hmm.

But, parlso and cilantry! Which I never did use, and can't remember why I bought it. What fucking recipe was that?

(A moment later...)

BEAN SALAD! THAT'S IT! Yay. Now I can make some.

*(If you still don't get it: "The Word Fumbler"! Guh.)