(via How My Cats See Me)
Poetry won’t get you laid anymore. It’s a poem. It’s about poetry. And also about getting laid. And about how poetry wont’ get you laid. Not anymore. It used to though. Not anymore. What gets you laid now? Maybe a YouTube video? or a reality show? Or a really good Pasta sauce. Yes. A really good pasta sauce will do the trick. What kind of pasta sauce? Is that what you’re asking? Ok. Go to a market and buy some sage. Heat up butter in a pan, watch it melt. When it turns a wee bit brown add your sage. Cook for two minutes until sage gets crackly. Mix this butter and sage mix with some pasta. Put it on a pretty plate and grind some parmesan over it. Serve it to the girl or boy of your dreams. Wait 1.5 hours. Anything yet? No? Then wait 24 hours. Blend a bunch of basil with a 1/4 cup of olive oil, two garlic cloves, a 1/2 cup of parmesan and a hand ful of pine nuts or walnuts. Add salt and pepper. Hey! Don’t blend them till they liquify, stupid. Just blend them enough that they are chopped up and look so lovely. Remember what you did with the sage butter? Now do the same thing but use the pesto sauce instead. Serve it to the one you love. Is it happening yet? Yes? It is? Really? That’s great. Are you ready to be a parent?
“What camera are you shooting on?”
“The Red One.”
“…the red one of what?”
“No, that’s the-……….sigh.”
The Red Epic? Why the red is epic?