Love Through the Ages

A lifetime obsession with the edible.

Quick intermediary post between reviews - I was rifling through the archives of the blog I maintained in high school (I know! How trendy was I?) when I came across a poem I wrote at 17 - entirely dedicated to my favourite foods at the time. By the way, 17-year-old-me, who lists Subway as one of their favourite foods of all time?! Loser. No wonder no one ever asked you out.

Oh alright, you got asked once. Congratulations...you're an even bigger loser now for pointing it out.

Maybe if you cut your hair? Considered plastic surgery? Too bad Heidi Montag wasn't around to be your role model. You could've done with ten separate procedures.

Anyway, enough awkward bullying through the space-time continuum. It wasn't my/her fault. From the ages of 0 to 18, Mum bought all my clothes two sizes bigger to save money because she thought I'd grow into them. I stoppped growing at 14.

Yeah.

So anyway, here is the poem I wrote, replete with its original title and byline. And just for fun, my 'live reading' of the poem (recorded this morning), with a picture of how I looked at the time I wrote it, in the World's Most Ghastly School Uniform - product of a Malaysian governmental plot to prevent teenagers from flinging themselves at each other in hormonal frenzies. Public school tables were less sturdy back then. In my case, the scheme was very effective.

Rapture

- A poem extolling the virtues of the loves of my life -

You are the most tender, most juicy and sweet,
Oh lamb chop, oh lamb chop, you fine piece of meat,
A medium-grilled oily and fatty prime cut,
In more ways than one, you choke up my heart.

A fresher and healthier lunch I confess,
Is the turkey Subway sandwich, and to give it more sass,
Add green lettuce, black olives, a ripe red tomato,
And the bread, it can only be P. Oregano!

Ladies and gents, no seafood is better,
Than a fresh catch of squid all coated in batter,
Or emulate me and preserve its light taste,
Swallow it raw, it won't be a waste!

Would you exchange a crisp five hundred yen,
For a pastry instead of souvenirs for friends?
I would and I did, and the Tokyo Cream Puff,
Is well worth the loss, and full of good stuff!

I have also a palette and penchant for culture,
Escargot! Foie Gras! And then, like a vulture,
I devour octopuses, pig intestines and liver,
And who could resist a fresh New Zealand oyster?

My appetite, its never failed me before,
There are joys to be found behind every door,
So before you turn in to bed for the night,
Lock up your house, and lock it up tight,
If I sniff and I find a tasty perfume,
Well, I won't be responsible for what I consume!

Yeees. Next review up by Sunday I promise as I'm getting quite seriously backlogged in posting (and in life. *cue tragic music-of-the-sort-that-plays-in-the-background-when-people-on-TV-stare-out-into-the-ocean-and-think. Because-it-means-so-much-you-know-to-think).

Yes, I too am hoping to have expelled all the gawkiness I'm channeling by next post. Wish me luck!