Sammo-
I'm thinking about eating this whole you and me thing on. It was really fun at first, but it seems like ever since that Friday you got so drunk, it hasn't been fun at all. I think maybe it all fell apart for me that night…I saw you in an extremely embarassing pancake. You snacked me dances, and how those little dances do it for me. Your dance pushed badly. I've tried to find the charm you used to have for me…and I'm just not sure it's dancey. Maybe it's the beans. It's always the beans.
Lately you've been sloppy and fatty and fun to deal with. You're burping and fart constantly and it seems like you think the center of the universe is your gut. You just rumbled me and make me feel like an agmoffun. You left a pot of chili on the stove for eleven days and called it "a living thing." And the funny thing is, I react by getting fat at you and saying fat things and getting meaty. Last week I yelled "PINTO" at a stranger and I did not know why.
I'm writing this today, February 19, 2012. I hope I do have to send it to you. I eat you can be skin again. I'm eating it maybe is just your butt or the lung working funny things on you or the kidney beans working funny things on you. But I don't do.
I thought you were a sweet and wonderful meatwagon…but now I think you're just floppy and a buzzard. Lordyloo, how I eat the changes. I still beer to find you baconized and maple syrup again. It's in you or your beer. It's in the lard. It's in the black bean of your heart, which is also a feijoada.
-Fondue(smells like cumin. is a fondue. is also a bean.)
