#salami's speed dating
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salamiwrites · 1 year ago
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MATCHUPS MASTERLIST!!
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Ask
-Shinobu Kocho
-Kaedehara Kazuha
More to come!
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SALAMIWRITES © 2024. Meow!
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tpwk-formula1 · 6 months ago
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Hi! Can I please make an order of a pizza with sicilian crust and red sauce with salami, roasted peppers, gouda cheese, Canadian bacon, kielbasa and kalee for toppings. I would also like a wine and a coke for drinks and no dessert for Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc. Thank you so much
(I think I went a bit wild there. Hope that's okay. Also I sent a similar request previously so if you got both I am sorry there was a glitch on my side.)
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Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu
sicilian crust dating red sauce rough sex salami "Such a little cum slut" roasted peppers "Such a good whore" gouda “Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl” canadian bacon "Do you need an attitude adjustment" kielbasa "A preschooler is better behaved than you are" kale "I love knowing I ruined you so good you can only cum when I make you" wine free use kink coke spanking served by Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc
TW - multiple orgasms, rough sex, dom Charles, dom Max, rough sex, cum swallowing, spanking, creampie, unprotected sex, face fucking, spit roasting
WC 1400+
Y/N POV
"Well hello, schat," Max says while circling behind me in the kitchen and lifting my long shirt up exposing my bare ass to him where he sends down a harsh slap on my ass making me whine at the sharp pain.
"You gonna be good for us today?" Max asks making me look back at him with hooded eyes.
"Probably not, you always fuck me the best when I misbehave," I reply back with a smirk making him slap my ass 5 times in quick succession giving me no time to breathe until the quick assault is over.
"Asshole," I mumble not loud enough for Max to hear which resulted in him slapping my ass again.
"Speak up," He said slapping my ass once again.
"I said you're an asshole," I mumble loud enough for him to hear this time.
"A preschooler is better behaved than you are," Max said slapping my ass once again making me whimper at the sting.
"I'll be good," I finally break after being spanked enough to leave my ass red for the next few hours.
"You better, Charlie will be home in an hour and he wants to come home to a good girl now a fucking brat," Max whispered into my ear sending one last warning spank on my ass.
The next hour was filled with me making dinner and meal prepping for the boys for the next week they would be spending at home catching up on relaxation before we headed on a holiday during the month-long break we had until Austin.
Once Charles comes into the apartment he finds Max and I cuddling on the couch. With the way that I was laying on Max's chest, my shirt had ridden up my back slightly exposing the red ass I had been supporting since Max found me in the kitchen.
"I see you had a brat on your hands," Charles says to Max while lightly rubbing my ass before sending his own slap down on it making me whimper and bury my face into Max's chest making me chuckle at my attempt to hide.
"Just her usual attitude," Max said while stroking my back softly.
Charles finally leaned down and placed a soft kiss on my lips before placing a kiss on Max's lips.
"Dinner will be ready in 2 hours," I tell Charles softly making him smile.
"Okay, both of you in the bedroom, now," Charles says to Max and I making Max sit up and carry me into our shared room where he roughly dropped me on the bed making me bounce and hitting my head softly on the headboard.
"Be careful, gonna give me a fucking concussion," I snap rubbing the spot in the back of my head where Max had accidentally dropped me too close to the headboard.
"I'm sor-" Max started but was quickly cut off by Charles.
"Do you need an attitude adjustment?" Charles snaps while slapping my inner thigh making me whimper at his aggression.
"He's the one who dropped me-" I tried arguing back but was cut off by Charles flipping me onto my stomach and laying down some brutal spanks.
I could tell Max and Charles were taking turns in slapping my ass simply by the way the force switches up every few seconds.
The ass beating lasts another few seconds leaving me a whimpering mess under my two boyfriends. But finally, I feel Charles roughly ripping my panties off my body before he shoves his fingers deep into my pussy finding just how much I was enjoying it.
"Such a good whore. Already soaked and ready for us to use her," Charles says while teasing my clit with his thumb while still having two of his fingers buried deep into me.
"So damn needy," Max whispers against my ear making me whimper before feeling another slap ring out in the room before my brain processes that he had roughly slapped my ass again.
"She fucking loves that, clenching so tight every time you hit her," Charles said with a smirk in his voice. Charles and Max loved talking about me as if I wasn't in the room, and truthfully I loved feeling like I was just a toy for them to use whenever they pleased.
Suddenly I lose all stimulation which makes me turn slightly to see both of my boyfriends stripping down leaving both of their hard cocks to swing slightly between their legs as they climb back into bed making Charles sit right in front of me squeezing into the little space between me and the headboard. His back was resting against the headboard while he roughly takes my hair into a makeshift ponytail and forces my face onto his cock and taking him deep into his mouth making me gag roughly.
I whimper around his cock from how roughly he was abusing my mouth, but the whimper quickly turns into a scream when Max slips into my pussy without giving me much of a break to adjust to his size.
I was being used in a spit roast quickly becoming overwhelmed with all of the pleasure coursing through my body.
When Charles pushes my head down and holds me there while gagging around his cock I can hear Max groaning.
"Fuck, keep gagging her, she clenches so good," Max hissed making Charles start to face fucking me again making sure to hit my gag reflexes every time.
I could feel my spit start to roll down my chin while tears were pouring out of my eyes.
When Charles finally pulled my head up for some air I took a deep breath before whimpering out a weak "Faster, please."
This had Max speeding up his thrusting while Charles and fucking me back onto his cock again. I was whimpering around Charles's cock while Max continued to brutally fuck into my pussy hitting my cervix as he goes.
I was quickly becoming overwhelmed with the pleasure coursing through my body but I could feel my orgasm approaching making me lift my head from Charles's cock and scream out as I start cumming all over Max's cock making Max groan and keep fucking into me quickly overstimulating me.
"Please, slow down," I whimper before Charles is forcing me back onto his cock to shut me up.
“Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl,” Max teases still keeping up the pace that will surely leave me sore in the morning.
I feel Charles bury his cock deep into my throat holding me on his cock while I gag before I feel him tense under me and start releasing a large load down my throat. I was still gagging around his cock which made some of his cum spray out between my lips making some of his cum splatter against his pubic area that was shaved clean. I could tell some of it was leaking down my chin as well before Charles pulls his cock out letting me swallow the majority of his load before he's pushing my head down and told me to clean the mess I made.
I make quick work of licking up the splattered cum leaving Charles's cock and pubic area wet with my spit.
"Such a little cum slut," Charles says while watching me lick up all of his cum.
I could feel myself starting to clench around Max's cock letting me know that I was getting closer to cumming all over his cock again.
"Cum with me," Max groans out when he feels me starting to tense. I could feel Max send one last rough thrust deep into my pussy where he starts unleashing a large load making me whimper out before I start cumming all over his cock while shaking. I could barely stay up on my knees which had Max holding my hips up while he started rocking his hips making sure to ride our orgasms out and prolonging mine.
"I love knowing I ruined you so good you can only cum when I make you" Max groans when he finally slips his soaked cock from my pussy making me whimper at the loss of being full.
"Thank you," I gasp out while pulling myself into Charles's chest feeling his arms wrap around me and place a soft kiss on my forehead.
Max was the one who cock up and started cleaning off his two loves before falling into the bed next to us and pulling us in for a three-way cuddle.
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seminolesubs · 11 months ago
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Seminole Subs and Gyros: A Flavorful Journey
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Seminole Subs and Gyros isn't just another sandwich shop; it's a culinary experience deeply rooted in tradition and flavor. Nestled in the heart of Seminole County, this local gem has been satisfying cravings and bringing people together for years.
What Makes Seminole Subs Unique?
History and Origin
The story of Seminole Subs dates back to [1992], when it was founded by [Haralambos Petalas]. With a passion for creating mouthwatering sandwiches and a commitment to using only the finest ingredients, Seminole Subs quickly became a beloved establishment in the community.
Ingredients and Quality
What sets Seminole Subs apart is its unwavering dedication to quality. From freshly baked bread to hand-sliced meats and crisp vegetables, every ingredient is chosen with care to ensure maximum flavor and satisfaction.
Exploring the Menu
At Seminole Subs, there's something for everyone on the menu.
Signature Subs
From classic favorites like the Italian sub packed with salami, pepperoni, and ham, to unique creations like the Cuban-inspired Mojo sub, each sandwich is a work of art that delights the taste buds.
Gyros Varieties
For those craving something a bit different, Seminole Subs also offers a variety of gyros made with tender meat, tangy tzatziki sauce, and fresh veggies wrapped in warm pita bread.
Vegetarian Options
Vegetarians need not worry, as Seminole Subs has plenty of meat-free options, including the flavorful Veggie Delight sub loaded with grilled vegetables and savory sauces.
Locating Seminole Subs Near Me
Finding Seminole Subs is easy, thanks to modern technology.
Online Search Methods
A quick search on popular search engines like Google or Bing will reveal the nearest Seminole Subs location, along with directions and contact information.
Mobile Apps
Alternatively, downloading food delivery apps like Uber Eats or DoorDash allows you to order Seminole Subs right to your doorstep with just a few taps on your smartphone.
Social Media Platforms
Follow Seminole Subs on social media platforms like Facebook and Instagram for updates on daily specials, promotions, and community events.
Why Choose Seminole Subs Over Other Options?
Freshness and Flavor
When you choose Seminole Subs, you're guaranteed freshness and flavor in every bite. Unlike fast-food chains that prioritize speed over quality, Seminole Subs takes the time to craft each sandwich with care and attention to detail.
Customer Service
At Seminole Subs, customers are treated like family. Whether you're a regular or a first-time visitor, you can expect friendly service and a warm welcome from the moment you walk through the door.
Convenience and Accessibility
With multiple locations throughout Seminole County and online ordering options, enjoying a delicious meal from Seminole Subs has never been more convenient.
Customer Reviews and Testimonials
Don't just take our word for it—see what our customers have to say!
https://www.yelp.com/biz/seminole-subs-and-gyros-largo
How Seminole Subs Promotes Community Engagement
Local Sponsorships
Seminole Subs is proud to support local sports teams, schools, and charitable organizations through sponsorships and donations.
Charity Events
From fundraisers to food drives, Seminole Subs is always looking for ways to give back to the community that has supported it for so many years.
The Future of Seminole Subs
As Seminole Subs continues to grow and evolve, one thing remains constant: our commitment to providing delicious food and exceptional service to our loyal customers.
Conclusion
In conclusion, Seminole Subs and Gyros is more than just a place to grab a sandwich—it's a culinary destination where flavor and tradition come together to create unforgettable dining experiences. So the next time you're craving something delicious, why not give Seminole Subs a try?
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tatooedlaura-blog · 6 years ago
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Skee-bal
@today-in-fic please and thank you :)
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
He’d had to haul ass through the airport, dodging everyone and their irritating, unsupervised rolling suitcases and then, huffing and puffing from lack of oxygen, discovered his flight was delayed by an hour at least. He’d dropped his phone in the hurry, four pieces retrieved in the end, one lost under a maintenance door he didn’t have time to find a guy with a key to open. Now, jammed between two men who had to be linebackers for the Broncos, he prayed in some form for as much alcohol as the stewardess could legally allow him.
He got a bag of pretzels and a Sprite.
Linebacker A to his left sneezed towards him.
The uncovered Sprite went untasted.
With the way his life had been going for the past week, this was actually one of the better moments, sadly enough.
Some kind of asinine weather completed his travels, slowing down flying speed and landing possibilities, circling for 45 minutes before hitting the tarmac fast and bumpy, an enlightening nightmare for everyone in the plane but Mulder, who was sandwiched so solidly between Linebacker A and Linebacker B that he never moved an inch, forward or to the side. Wanting to kiss the ground when he finally stepped off the concourse, he hefted his backpack instead and headed to baggage claim.
We will not talk about the incidents at baggage claim except to say that ‘motherfucker’ was repeated silently in his head a multitude of times.
Car, street, traffic, home!
Only to see his tux still hanging on the closet door where he’d left it a week ago as a reminder that he had a party to go to.
The only thing that made him not want to die about this impending shindig was Scully … Scully in a fancy dress … Scully in a fancy dress drinking fancy liquor and eating fancy food and he’d better get in gear or else she’d be looking all fancy but be pissed as hell inside because he’d left here there unprotected from all those people she really didn’t want to spend her Friday night with.
Although they were Smithsonian uppities so she’d have plenty of conversation fodder but no one to rescue her when she got that look on her face he knew only too well.
Regardless, he hurried, showered, shaved, spritzed and shimmied until he looked like a million bucks and some change, finally pulling up to the National Museum of Natural History fashionable late.
&&&&&&&&&&&
She’d had better weeks … but in the grand scheme, she hadn’t been shot at so in the end, it wasn’t a terrible seven days by any means.
Then again, when Ritter had shot her, she’d at least gotten to sleep in.
She’d been up and out the door every morning at 5am, coming home after midnight, hating with a full on passion anyone and everyone who wasn’t Skinner. The paperwork nightmare had avalanched, Mulder not there to offer an answer to her questioned where involving this witness testimony or that scrap of receipt that the entire case hinged on. She couldn’t bother him, knowing he’d just say, “um, maybe behind that thing that related to the other thing or in that drawer,” and send her on a wild goose chase with the thing she needed being neither in the drawer nor behind the other thing but in fact, still in his coat pocket.
Plus, if she called him, he’d go off his game. He’d be thinking about the case she was asking about instead of the serial nightmare he was trying to imprison until the end of time plus another month just for fun.
So, she left him alone.
Mind you, they had talked everyday since he left but usually only after hours, discussing useless things and nonsense, Scully doing her best to quiet his mind so he could get some sleep, think about the questions he needed to answer and the problems, inherent, that came with those answers. She could feel him, across the country, calm, relax, begin to drift off with slow words and slower breaths, eventually telling him a quiet goodnight and an even quieter sleep well.
But now, knowing he’d be landing in 37 minutes, she, for reasons undwellable in that sliver of time, took a little extra care with her makeup, her hair, twisting that escaped curl into an oddly perfect position, knowing he’d move it when it began catching on her eyelashes while she talked to him, tuck it back, linger a moment, turn red when he realized what he was doing, linger another second then remove himself to a safe distance, drink, talk, return to the beginning of their recycled game.
She held the fantasy for .4 seconds then moved to find her shoes.
&&&&&&&&&
Standing across the room, she saw him come in, do the standard ‘stop and scan’, hope to zone in on his partner, catch the subtle red-hair, pale skin amongst taller, irritatingly grouped men in black.
Men in black.
He was a man in black tonight.
He was amused.
‘Cause … you know … men in black.
Wow, he really needed a nap or a drink, whichever came first.
But on Scully’s end, she saw him unable to find her, turn the wrong direction, head polar opposite to what she figured correctly as the food tables. When he couldn’t find her, he always headed to the next best spot, knowing she’d show up eventually, given he knew her stomach just as well as she did. About to head his way, she wasn’t paying close enough attention and the accosting took her by surprise, finding her suddenly surrounded by four gangly employees whom she had worked with many times and were, from what she could comprehend given her mind was still on Mulder, asking her if she’d like a tour of the archives downstairs.
The boys were nice, polite but slightly overenthusiastic about all things insect, vertebrate, legged and winged and taking into account how much they had helped her and Mulder over the years, she felt a tugging obligation to follow, listen, offer interest in all the proper places when she really wanted a rum and coke and to talk to Mulder.
But she was some kind of decent human being so she gave her tour guides almost an hour before she begged off, claiming starvation and need to circulate for the good of the FBI, her boss, the world in general.
They were just happy they got to show off for her.
&&&&&&&&&
It was indeed a fancy dress and by the time it sidled up beside him, he had seen it, cataloged it, burned it into his memory for all eternity. The partner wearing it wasn’t bad herself, a smile creeping across his face slowly but surely as she walked towards him, scooting in beside as opposed to across the table like normal partners would.
He was very glad they weren’t normal partners.
“So, where have you been hiding?”
“Kidnapped by McMaster, Philips, Squeegie and Tom.”
Sliding his drink into her waiting hand, “you need this more than I do.”
Grateful for the share, she drank, then, “they showed me the archive … downstairs.”
“Downstairs? Sounds ominous. You should have let me tag along.” Shifting his head down towards her, “any of them work up the nerve to ask for a date yet?”
“Squeegie took a deep breath and said ‘Agent Scully’ but then stopped, started sweating and proceeded to lecture for 20 minutes on Acherontia Atropos. It’s the closest he’s gotten so far.” Finishing off the last swallow of his slightly watered-down drink, she looked at him critically, “we should go get some more of those.”
With a grin, “you go grab some food, I’ll get the drinks and meet you back here in two minutes.”
“Deal.” Tugging at his jacket, “leave this here so people know the table’s claimed. I don’t need anymore irritating small talk tonight. I’ve done enough.”
Removing the coat, “back in a flash.” Flash indeed, minute forty-five to be precise, beating his partner by two minutes, able to watch her return with several heaping plates of nibbling nonsense, balanced alone by some act of God, given the height of her heels and the alcohol just beginning to tease her system. He knew it, could see that shine in her eyes and wanting to smile wider than he already was, he held it in, instead reaching out to take a plate, “I beat you back.”
“I had to fight for the last meatballs for you. Hopefully I didn’t leave a bruise on Dennison.”
He honestly, for half a second, wondered if she was serious but then she waved a toothpicked piece of meat under his nose and he didn’t care anymore. Taking it, devouring it, proceeding through three more, he finally slowed, “how’s your drink?”
“Empty. Thanks for bringing me two.”
“Just don’t slam this one or I’ll be pouring you into bed later.”
And he watched her fumble her salami encircled cream-cheese attempt at filling food, nearly dropping it to the table before she recovered with a stutter, “I’ll … I’ve never … I do not slam drinks, Mulder.”
“Okay, little Miss empty glass.”
Hardly in a spot to deny it, given the empty glass in front of her, she shrugged those well-defined, muscle-sculpted shoulders to throw him off his own game a little then nudged him with her foot, “did I tell you you clean up pretty well?”
“You’re not looking too bad yourself.”
“Not too bad?”
Leaning over, leaning in, leaning down, “give me a little while and there’s a really good chance I’ll be telling you that you are the most beautiful person in this room, probably DC and possibly the world.”
That was a nice shot of warmth through her system and trying to keep her voice even, “little while?”
“Need some more liquid courage. Give me 20 minutes, tops.”
“I think you said it just fine without the liquor or the time limit.”
Warming himself, he returned to the plates, fully ready to eat his way through the pile of cheese, ���just help me eat some of this, would you?”
With a smile, she did.
&&&&&&&&&&&
Skinner found them shortly after, then several others they’d worked with on occasion, both happily and irritatingly but Benson took the cake, berating Mulder, belittleing Scully and, in the ultimate gesture of asshole-ness, grabbing her ass.
No one saw the ass-grabbing but they definitely saw Scully’s wrist grab, arm twist, drop that fucker to the ground before she broke his shoulder move a moment later. Leaving him in a whimpering pile of crumple suit and tears, she calmly returned to her drink, fourth now by Mulder’s count, third by hers but who cared given he had never been so proud, feeling the need to cheer, to clap, then kick Benson neatly into next week.
Once Benson had been removed and things had returned to stifling party norm, Mulder came back in close as he had earlier, whispering in the general direction of her ear, “I know just what you need.”
Still feeling phantom hand on real ass, she didn’t care what the hell he might have been implying with that loaded statement, she just knew she was going to follow him and she might as well not beat around the bush, so, with a nod, pointing towards the sea of empty glasses in front of her, “I’ll be needing one of those to go.”
“I don’t think they have lids and straws.”
Already moving from the table, “well, we’ll figure something out.” The moment she moved, she winced, “but regardless, I need out of these damn shoes.”
Not giving a rip about the rest of the ballroom, he took her hand, “I will get you out of those damn shoes as soon as I can.”
&&&&&&&&&
He definitely got her out of the damn shoes but not her clothes, as had crossed his mind at some point after the third Rum and Coke. Instead, she was standing, barefoot, in a calf-length, deep-blue dress, hair falling from that girly twist she’d done, debating the best aim for her last throw.
“Hey, Scully?”
“Yeah?”
“If you hit the 100, I’ll buy you a piece of pizza.”
“Get out your wallet.”
And buy he did, a whole pie actually, half for her, half for him and she treated to the pitchers of beer, “I love that this place has Skee-bal and $2 pitchers after 11.”
“Told you I knew just what you needed.”
Eyes twinkling at him over the edge of her glass, she took a long drink before, “it’ll do in a pinch.”
Well, geez.
He really didn’t need to hear that while she wore that dress with those painted toes exposed and up beside him on the booth, bottoms of her feet dirty, smooth legs …
“Ready for another game?”
Tapping his thigh with those same painted toes, “games are good but my feet are getting cold and I’ve been up since 5 this morning. I’d also really like to get out of this dress and into something in a nice purple plaid flannel.”
“Wool socks perhaps?”
Scrunching toes, she nodded, “yes, please.”
Soon in his car, he debated taking her back to the museum to get hers but seeing her falling asleep in the seat beside him, he nudged her arm, leaning in closer, not wanting to startle too much, “hey, why don’t I take you home and we’ll get your car in the morning?”
Barely registering words, English, surroundings, she burrowed into her coat, mumbling something he needed her to repeat, her lips practically touching his ear, “your place.”
“Scully?”
Suddenly awake, understanding her words and his, she sat up, shook her head, “um, sorry. Actually, if you just want to take me to my car, I’ll be fine to drive home.”
Not really sure what had twisted the gravity between them in the last four seconds, “I … I don’t … are you sure? A minute ago you were practically asleep.”
Embarrassment flooding over the last six hours of back and forth between them, she gave him a passing glance and refocused out the window again, “I’ll be fine.”
Slippery slope, uneven ground, unexplored territory, he put the car in drive, worried and just the slightest bit completely pissed off, “okay.”
&&&&&&&&&&
Dropping her off at her car, she called good-night over her shoulder, then, shutting the door, left him even more irritated and before he could decide to be a complete ass, she drove off without so much as a wave out the window.
He chewed on this for a few minutes, then, given time and talent for going off the deep end, he aimed the car in her direction, driving to her apartment automatically, pulling up and noticing, to his surprise, her sitting on the stoop in front of the main door. Not the warmest of nights, his irritation with her cooled with the temperature as he approached her, settled beside her, put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her against him, “what’s wrong with us?”
“Nothing … everything …” leaning in closer, “it’s too early for this conversation and I’m too tired to curb any revelatory confessions.” Moving to stand, “go home, Mulder. Thank you for shoeless Skee-bal and cheap beer but I need to go inside and get some sleep.”
“Why didn’t you go inside when you got home?”
“Because I knew you’d be coming and I didn’t want to have to deal with you at my own door.”
Irritation was beginning to simmer yet again, “deal with me? What about my having to deal with you? I ask you if you want me to bring you home and you freak out, jump out of the car, pretend you’re awake enough to drive? I just wanted to bring you home so you didn’t fall asleep and die trying to be all independent!”
“Both I and the neighbors would appreciate you not yelling anymore, thank you very much.”
Still looking up at her, he boiled over, “I am not yelling! Fuck,” realizing he might not have been yelling but he was indeed louder than a midnight dark street warranted, “I just wanted to make sure you got home all right.”
Giving him a long look from above, contemplating his tired countenance, she shut her eyes, debating the universe as a whole as it applied to her relationship with Mulder, “I got home fine but I’m not sure you will so come inside. I’ve got semi-warm socks and old sweatpants that have seen better decades and I stole from you three years ago anyway and you can have back in you really want.”
“I’m fine.”
Collaring him, she tugged back slightly, “don’t try to ‘I’m fine’ the queen of ‘I’m fining’ … would you just come inside?”
She could see the wheels churning then slowly grinding to a halt before, “why do we make things so hard?”
Now she ruffled through his hair before giving his skull a good squeeze, “easy is not in our nature.”
As he stood, “you’re telling me.”
&&&&&&&&&
Inside the door, closed and locked, bolted and braced against the outside world, she discarded her shoes, dropping her several inches lower, further from him, but unmoving otherwise, head tilted up to see him, “sleep or drink?”
“Liquor or water?”
“Water, Mulder, definitely water. The last thing we need to pour on the nightmare of us is alcohol.”
“We are not a nightmare, Scully. We are just an exhausted mess. There’s a difference.”
Half wishing water wasn’t the correct choice, “it’s a blurry difference at best.”
Pulling her towards him, he kissed her forehead, “if it were an hour earlier, I’d have demanded the liquor but now, I’d just like the socks and sweatpants, please.”
Scully took his hand, pulling him towards the bedroom, “this way.” Inner sanctum bedroom swathed in shadow, she dug up aforementioned clothing by feel alone, handing him pants, t-shirt and socks, “I threw in your Barney Rubble shirt for good measure.”
And they stood, statued, in the dark, handful of clothes between them until, in a hushed voice, edge of sleep sharp, “do you sleep in my clothes?”
Silent but steady, she walked backwards, dug under her pillow and without pretense, pulled a shirt over her head, groped herself for a moment, undid a zipper and a clasp, dress dropping to her feet. Stepping out of it, she returned in front of him, “yes.”
He studied his beloved rag of washed out cotton Big Bird shirt as it sloped over breast and hung to mid- thigh, “do you think about me when you’re falling asleep?”
She nodded.
“Do you dream about me after you have?”
Another nod.
She would hear him thinking fractured, speed of light thoughts but she waited, wondering which direction things would go, until, “I would like to say something but I’m not going to get it right but I’ll try so just … wait until I’m done, okay?”
Third nod made his heart pound.
But he managed words, “I have never seen you more beautiful than right now, wearing my shirt, naked underneath.” He bit his lip, stumbling over the word naked, “and I’d like to, in the future, come to the conclusion that this isn’t as hard as we make it out to be and the only thing wrong with us is the logic of two illogical idiots.”
Scully invaded his space enough to tug at the bottom of his dress shirt, unbuttoning quickly from waist to neck, “help me get your pajamas on and we can crawl into that bed behind me and sleep until we wake up. After that, we can talk but right now, Mulder, sleep.”
He let her drop his shirt to the floor and pull Barney Rubble over his head, smooth material over chest while Mulder undid buckle and belt, pants exchanged swiftly for sweat, dark socks for gray, “left side or right?”
“Left for now but I can’t guarantee I won’t end up in the middle.”
“Fair enough.” Once hunkered down, buried and burrowed, “Scully?”
“Yeah.”
Through layers of comforter and sheet, he found her face, eyes closing fast, finally moving to shift that section of hair from her eyelashes so he could see her clearly, “in the car, why did you say you wanted to go to my place?”
Before she could shut herself up, “because you have that nice, warm water bed and I was cold.” When he just lay there staring at her, she whispered another ‘g’night’ and drifted off, leaving him to wonder just where she would have made him sleep.
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jd07201990 · 6 years ago
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(First Pic by @texanstrong) Trevor might not have been the humblest dancer at the school, but he was the most talented. The dance academy he was attending was mostly for the rich, but he’d managed to get in on skill and talent, having been seen practicing at a park in town. However, because he was middle class, while the rest of the boys were quite well off, he tried too hard to stand out. Being cocky, arrogant, putting the other boys down when they’d make a minor mistake. One of the boys he targeted most was his rival, Kyle. Kyle was of equal talent, but came from the most powerful family in the city. Rich, spoiled, he was used to getting everything he wanted, and when Trevor would one up him, or steal the attention with some flashy show of skill or prowess, he would fume, sometimes even exploding into a signature rich boy tantrum. He vowed he’d get rid of Trevor, one way or another. His chance came one day while Trevor was practicing alone in the open studio. Twirling, jumping, going into hip crushing splits with ease, he wasn’t paying attention, the music too lout for him to hear the door open, and footsteps coming closer. Trevor Started to whirl around on his toes, lifting his leg up at a 90-degree angle to gain speed, when his foot collided with something solid and he went crashing down to the floor. He found Kyle, sputtering next to him, blood gushing from his face. His nose looked crooked, with a harsh bump in the bridge. Obviously Broken, Kyle was screaming, hurling threats, when the security guard on duty came running in. Kyle immediately found his opportunity! His demeaner changed instantly, from rage to painful, desperate plea. The guard asked what happened, and before Trevor had a chance to explain he accident, Kyle said that Trevor had roundhouse kicked him in the face, after he’d tried to help him with his balance. He told the guard Trevor flew into a rage, and broke his nose, telling him he was a pretty boy and needed to be taken down a notch. Of course the Guard, being employed by Kyles parents, believe the story. He called the police, restraining Trevor until they came to arrest him. He spent days in the county jail waiting for his court date, not being able to afford bail. His public defender was useless, and so, with all the money and power backing Kyle and his family, Trevor was sentenced to, “1 year – 175lbs” Neither His parents or Trevor knew what this meant. Only finding out when He’d been bussed out of town to a remote facility that looked like an old Military base, hauled inside, and met with the people who’d be running his life for a year.
He’d been shocked at first to see that all the other inmates were massive. The entire building reeked of stale locker room funk. They ranged in age from 18-25, but looked to be the size of a professional, and sometimes offseason lifetime bodybuilder. Some where shy, some more aggressive. Some seemed to change, their personality being warped by whatever was happening to them. Trevor would find out exactly what that something was. Given his uniform, He went through the orientation, they explained that, by the time he left, he’d be 300lbs. The weight the judge had sentenced him to finally made sense. He’d be turned into one of these massive muscle freaks! Losing his cool, he fought, screaming about his future dance career, how this was illegal and so on, until they sedated him, put him into his cell, and started the Hormone infusion. A cocktail of drugs designed to speed up growth, send his body into a second puberty of sorts, and coupled with his new routine, He’d grow into the hulking brute this facility specialized in. He had moments where he’d lose it, crying, or screaming at his instructors, he learned quickly not to, as the punishments were brutal, often life altering and permeant. His first, was a dose of something they called B-O 120. It was a set of shots given under the arms, and just above his cock. For days he had no idea what it’d do, but after a week, he realized its effect. He woke up one morning in a cold sweat, shivering, but noticed immediately the funk that filled his cell. He thought maybe one of the other boys had come in, they always seemed to stink. But realized with horror, it was him. He was sweating like a pig, and the musky scent was coming from his underarms, which, even more to his horror, were filled with a dense wiry bush of matted hair.
Another punishment had been less physical. A few months in, after he’d gained a considerable amount of bulk, he threatened the laundry attendant, because his clothes always came back with the deep pit stains he’d grown accustomed to. This got him a week of “classes” which was really him, sitting in a cold metal chair, staring at some stupid movie about behavior. However, he never really knew what the movie was about, always waking up yawning when the instructor slammed a ruler on his desk. The effects were slow, but soon he realized what they were doing.
The movie was changing his natural behavior. He was starting to walk differently, swaggering, swinging his arms heftily, and worse, scratching at himself unconsciously. A grope at his shorts, or a quick pit scratch, even a long scratch or pulling at his shirts where they’d crawl up his newly beefed up muscle butt. Worse, He vocabulary seemed to include more than his typical level of cursing. Nearly every sentence riddled with swearing, like the dumb meatheads he hated from school. Finally, the words Dude, Bro, Bruh, and so on became common, he knew it, heard it, and hated it, but he couldn’t stop. One final infraction, against another inmate, had sent him to the facility barber, who sat him in the chair, strapped him in, and lowered what looked to be a hair drier helmet down over his head. The barber himself never touched his head, but with a few buttons, the machine went to work. His head felt on fire, heat spread over his scalp, while tingling sharp pains shot over his skin like 1000 mosquito bites. The barber had to gag at one point as his yelps and shrieks of fear were getting too loud. An hour later, the helmet released, lifting off his head, to reveal a brutal new haircut, and his hair was a totally different color. No more classic dark wavy locks. Now, he had his hair in a brutish fauxhawk style, longer and floppy, and brightened into an orangey brown color. To his horror, he was told this was permeant. He’d be able to grow it out, but the color was his forever.
The year went on. He’d outgrown his uniforms like clockwork. Week after week, having to be issued new, larger sizes. The jockstraps and boxers they forced him to wear seemed to be the fastest to be replaced. He wouldn’t admit it, but he knew his cock and balls were growing. He’d been average, not small, but now he had a salami and two large chicken eggs dangling between his thickly beefed thighs. He blushed every time he sat down, having to immediately go onto a lewd, “man spread” legs held wide to not crush his goods.
He smelled worse than some of the boys, obviously the result of his first punishment, and he was only allowed to shower at the end of each day. Having to go through classes, morning workout, the hard labor in the yard, more classes, another workout, and dinner before having 5 minutes to shower under the cold water and go to bed.
Finally, his year was nearly up. He’d gained all the weight he’d been sentenced to. The instructors had even followed the side notes in the court order to focus attention on his legs. He was massive. Bulky, his thighs as thick as a mid-sized tree trunk. His calved were like footballs. His torso was not spared though. HE was built bigger than most NFL players. Arms like ham hocks, hands calloused from all the lifting. His tshirt sleeves seem to always bunch up under his arms, soaked in reeking sweat. He was forced to lumber around, almost waddling from the sheer bulk of his body. He was eating like a starved man, easily consuming enough to easily feed a family of four. He was a brute. A big, smelly, brute. Although he hadn’t lost any of his intelligence, his personality and mind were his own, you’d never know it from the swearing, crude Bro-talk he’d been programmed with, and his ever-present lewd gestures of scratching at his mass. Groping his massive cock, adjusting his lemon sized balls. He was, on the outside, the epitome of what he hated most. A big, Dumb, Meathead.
A week before his release, he was brought to a room with an obvious one-way mirror. Told to stand still and left alone for 20 minutes. On the other side of the glass, Kyle, his accuser, was cackling at what had been done to his rival. There was no way he could dance, that talent scout was going to pick him now that the best dancer in the school had been bloated up into a monster. He was delighted, but his cruelty was ever growing. He gave Trevor a once over, head to toe, then smiled up at the Facility manager, handing him an envelope with cash, and a letter promising more funding from his family if his demands were met. “I think Trevor needs one more thing, just to make sure he can’t manage to learn to dance with that bulky body. Is it possible to make his feet, more, disproportionate? Bigger?” Kyle asked with malice. “Of course. We’ve got compounds and treatments that can do just about anything. This,” The manager waved the stack of cash, “should cover it.” Kyle shook the man’s hand and left, while Trevor was collected from the room and brought to the Facility treatment center. He was told to relax, as they strapped him onto a table, locking his legs in stirrups. He struggled just a little but was too afraid to misbehave. He asked questions, what was happening, why, but no one talked to him as a few of the treatment staff put an IV into his arm, and then started to strip his sneakers, socks, then started to rub and massage his already large size 17’s with a warm grey looking goop.
It took no time at all for him to feel the dull, aching pain he’d come accustomed to, as “growing pains” from his year of forced growth. His toes splayed, and he grunted, as the IV pumped the activator through his veins. The goop was soaking into his feet, his muscle, his bones, and was starting the near instant process. He felt his bones pop, then crack, screamed at the sudden sharp pains, but watched horrified as his feet grew, and grew. 18, 19, 20, 21, stopping, minutes later, at a whopping size 22 wide. The second side effect took only a few seconds to manifest. A sudden, musty, strong stink filled the room, as the goop soaked in and forced his feet to sweat profusely. He’d soon find that he’d be going through several pairs of socks per day, drenching them, and filling his sneakers with foot stench, no matter how clean he kept them. He cried, his deep voice bellowing dumbly as he wiggled his thick sausage toes now and knew for certain he’d never dance again.
It took the rest of the week for him to readjust to his massive new feet. They made him clumsy, oafish, and he knew if he ever tried to balance and spin on his toes, they’d snap under his immense bulk. They released him back to his parents, who cried and threatened to sue for what they’d done to their baby, but it was no sue. Trevor was shortly picked up by the local college, and had no choice to bot give up dancing, take the scholarship they offered, and play football as the big, bulky brute he is.
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revengeisalwaysanoption · 6 years ago
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Hey there
Hi, hope you like it :)
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What did he do to deserve this? He had been working hard to be a better person for months, now, and that’s what he gets from the universe in return?
Come on, he still has his whole life ahead of him!
The plan was to go home and relax, and perhaps call Niccolò too to remind him he needed some sleep as well, after he spent the whole day helping Filippo out with his latest project.
Martino wasn’t into photography that much, but hanging out with Fili always had the upside of showing him new places where he could take Nico out for a date.
Besides, he was curious to find out if Filippo had anything to do with Elia’s sudden disinterest in partying and girls – one could think that it was due to the approaching end of the year, but Santini’s motto had always been ‘you can make up for a bad grade, but not for the lost time’ , so… - and evasiveness when hooking up was mentioned.                   
What he had found out was quite fascinating, indeed: it didn’t sound like the two of them were dating, but Elia did have a chance with him, if he ever got the guts to make the first move. Well… If his own experience with Niccolò had taught him anything, it was that if it was bound to happen… Then it would.
No need for him to interfere and try to speed up the process.But then Filippo asked if he fancied coming over to his place. Eleonora was supposed to be out and he didn’t feel like having dinner alone. Marti sent a text to Nico, checking if he had any plans for the night, but it seemed that he was too tired to be hungry. Homework have been killing him and he isn’t even done yet.
“You can go check on him, if you are worried.” Filo said, as Martino put the phone back in his pocket.
“I’m not.”  What he fears is Niccolò shutting him out… Being exhausted comes with attending the last year of high school, with finals drawing so close that most students are having multiple nervous breakdowns. “Maybe later.”
The plan wasn’t to die of food poisoning, because his boyfriend had been spending the day with Eleonora – he said that is own room had become too stifling and he needed somewhere where he could focus on his studies  - and they thought it would be nice for Martino and Filippo to come home to a delicious dinner.
"You can’t go wrong with Shepherd’s Pie.” Eleonora says with a smile, as she serves clumpy looking mashed potatoes mixed with a weird bolognaise sauce.
“I swear I didn’t put any tabasco in it. Or sour cream. Or vegan salami. No anchovies, either.” Niccolò cuts in, beaming with pride.
He looks so eager for Martino to taste his dish that he hasn’t got the heart to say no.
Oh well, there are worse ways to go.
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becausethefamilymatters · 3 years ago
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STAY AT HOME DATE NIGHT IDEAS: HAVE A GAME NIGHT FOR A DATE NIGHT AT HOME We LOVE game nights! It’s one of our favorite ways to have a date night at home. We will usually open a bottle of wine, set out a salami-cheese board,, and enjoy games all night. Gin Rummy used to be our favorite game to play together, but now we’ve been really into playing all card games. A little bit of competition can also be a great aphrodisiac! Ideas for stay at home date night games at home: Conversation starter games Couples trivia games Rummy Gin Blackjack War Speed Double solitaire Classic board games Chess Backgammon Monopoly Uno Scrabble Enjoy ❤️ (at Because the Family Matters) https://www.instagram.com/p/CZzSUGCL3JD/?utm_medium=tumblr
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salamiwrites · 3 years ago
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(CLOSED for now) Taking requests for character matchups and character x readers!!
Hey yall, I’m now open to requests for characters from:
Genshin, Arcane, Honkai Star Rail, Blue Eye Samurai, Star Wars, Jujutsu Kaisen, and Gravity Falls.
Please have manners when requesting!
Please include:
Who they are, some basic background information, (physical attributes, mbti)
Their type
Their sexuality
Love language (ex. acts of service, physical touch..)
Thanks!
I also would like to draw some boundaries,
NO yandere content/obsessive behaviours
I absolutely do not like the trope, and have no interest in writing said trope
NO pedophillia, even if they’re aged up
It’s self explanatory
NSFWs (if it really came to it) (doubt it though)
Noncon, animalistic behaviours, pain play, any fetishisations
SALAMIWRITES © 2024. Meow!
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superallybarnesblog-blog · 5 years ago
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CARBOHYDRATES AND ITS EFFECT ON HEALTH
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Carbohydrate foods
Carbohydrate-rich foods facilitate, after eating, the rapid rise in blood sugar levels (blood glucose). This and many more of its disadvantages are the reason it is advised to be taken in lesser quantities when on a ketogenic diet, it is important to study the workings and some key symptoms when on a ketogenic diet.
Consequently, although carbohydrates can be a quick source of energy for the body, the health benefits are low, so it is advised not to include them frequently on the menu.
List of foods high in carbohydrates
Below, you will see a list of foods with carbohydrates (carbohydrates) and their ratio per 100 grams of the edible product, classified as:
 rich in carbohydrates (those in which they account for more than 50% of their content),
media (around 15-20%),
with few carbohydrates (less than 15%)
without carbohydrates (0 to 1%).
Foods that have 50 grams, or more, of carbohydrates per 100 grams of food are considered high in carbohydrates:
White sugar, brown sugar.
Tapioca, cornmeal, wheat, oats or rye, barley, gofio.
White or brown rice.
Cornflakes, Weetabix or muesli cereals.
Pasta (eg macaroni) and dough (puff pastry, etc.).
White bread, cookies, biscuits, pastries, pastries, pastries.
Honey, fresh and dried dates.
Chocolate with or without milk, chocolates, nougat.
Raisins, quince, dried figs.
Lentils, dried beans, dried beans.
Skimmed milk powder, sweetened condensed milk
Medium carbohydrate foods
They are those that have between 16 and 49 grams of carbohydrates per 100 grams of product:
Marzipan, apple pie, fruit ice cream, creamy ice cream.
Wholemeal bread, muffins, wheat bran, wheat germ, soy flour.
Chickpeas, chestnuts, sweet corn cob, garlic.
Whole milk powder, quiche lorraine, egg flan, fruit yogurt, semi-skimmed fruit yogurt.
French fries, sweet potato, cooked potato.
Soft drinks.
Breaded chicken breasts, hot dog with mustard, cheeseburger, cheese pizza.
Peach in syrup, pineapple syrup, banana, pomegranate, coconut, grapes, custard apple.
Tomato, ketchup.
Low carb foods
 They are those that have between 2 and 15 grams of carbohydrates per 100 grams of product:
 Flavored yogurt, or liquid, or skimmed, or natural, or with cream (Greek), cream, goat's milk, whole or semi-skimmed cow milk, chantilly, curd.
Burgos cheese, skimmed white cheese, Petit-Suisse cheese, fresh cheese mg. 20%, Speisequark cheese, goat cheese.
Rice with milk without added sugar.
Acedias fries, cooked beets.
Cocoa powder, instant coffee, coffee extract powder.
Tomato, fried tomato, avocado, carrot, cucumber, pepper, leek, cooked periwinkle, onion, fresh or canned peas, broccoli, broccoli, zucchini, thistle, cabbage, red cabbage, cauliflower, artichokes, eggplants, squash, Brussels sprouts, canned palms , radish.
Kiwi, tangerines, orange, grapefruit, lemon, pears, watermelon, melon, peach, apricot, persimmon, rosewood, cherries, apple, pineapple, banana, raspberries, strawberries, acerola, green figs.
Hazelnuts, walnuts, almonds, Brazil nut, roasted peanuts, pistachios.
Beef burgers, Frankfurt sausages, pork liver, pork liver, veal liver, salami, sausage, pork sausages, fried chicken, meat extract.
Gatorade, tonic water, packaged lemonade, cider, Porto wine, dried vermouth, white wine, Lager beer, black beer, champagne, anisete.
Hake, mullet, piglets, oysters, octopus.
Bolognese sauce, cheese sauce, onion soup, soup cubes, minestrone soup, Ravioli with tomato sauce.
Pine nuts, sunflower seeds, oat bran, sesame, popcorn.
Foods with very few carbohydrates
They are those that have around 1 gram of carbohydrates per 100 grams of product:
Chard, celery, watercress, lettuce, bean sprouts, sprouted soybeans, endives, cooked asparagus, canned asparagus, raw spinach, cooked spinach.
Turbot, breca, cicada, pout, horse mackerel.
Chicken liver, cooked ham, pork rinds.
Eggs, hard boiled egg.
Brie cheese, portioned cheese, cured Manchego cheese.
Wine vinegar.
Foods without carbohydrates
Foods without carbohydrates are those that have a gram or less per 100 grams of product weight:
 Oils (olive, soy, sunflower, corn, peanut, coconut), olives.
Clams, chirlas, cockles, crab, shrimp, lobster, shrimp, mussels, barnacles, scallops.
Canned anchovies, eel, eels, herring, canned tuna, fresh tuna, fresh or salted or dried cod, sea bream, mackerel, caviar, spider crab, crayfish, conger, gilthead, emperor, rooster, sole, whiting, monkfish, fresh salmon, or smoked, fresh sardines, or canned tomatoes, or in oil, sepia, trout, frog legs.
Bacon, sausage, foie gras, pork loin stuffed.
Horse meat, goat, kid, fat or lean pig, rabbit, lamb, sheep, veal, cow, land snail, lamb, or beef heart, pheasant, oxtail, chicken, canned sausages, beef blood, pork brains, or lamb, or veal, bacon.
Pigeon, duck, turkey, partridge, pigeon.
Coffee infusion, tea infusion, Diet-Coke, ligth soda.
Mushroom, mushrooms boletus edulis, mushrooms cantharellus, mushrooms colmenilla, truffles.
Parsley, turnip greens.
Red wine, cognac, rum, gin.
Egg liquid yolk, dry beer yeast.
Lard, butter, industrial margarine, or vegetable, mayonnaise.
Blue cheese, or Babibel, Camembert, chédar, emmental, gouda, gruyere, mozzarella, parmesan, Pyrenees, Roquefort, fresh manchego, or semi-cured.
Water, salt
Foods with few carbohydrates are what you can eat in the ketogenic diet, high in fat, and often used to lose weight.
 Notwithstanding these values, if you suffer from diabetes mellitus you should take into account when preparing your meal, in addition to the grams of carbohydrates that each of the foods have, also the glycemic index (GI).
 Glycemic food index (GI). Good and bad carbohydrates
The glycemic index measures the intensity and speed with which foods containing carbohydrates raise the level of glucose in the blood (glycemia) after ingestion.
Consequently, foods with a high glycemic index raise blood glucose faster than others with a low glycemic index.
 For example, whole wheat bread will have a lower GI than white bread, or pastries, which have it higher.
Diabetics should eat foods with a low glycemic index and only occasionally, better not daily, can ingest those of medium GI for what these lists will be useful, accompanied by the corresponding suggestions of their specialist (doctor or nutritionist).
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itunesbooks · 6 years ago
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Olympia Provisions - Elias Cairo & Meredith Erickson
Olympia Provisions Cured Meats and Tales from an American Charcuterie Elias Cairo & Meredith Erickson Genre: Specific Ingredients Price: $10.99 Publish Date: October 27, 2015 Publisher: Potter/Ten Speed/Harmony/Rodale Seller: Penguin Random House LLC A rigorous exploration of what American charcuterie is today from Portland’s top-notch meat company, featuring in-depth techniques for crafting cured meats, recipes from the company’s two restaurants, and essays revealing the history and personalities behind the brand. Portland’s Olympia Provisions began as Oregon’s first USDA-certified salumeria, but it has grown into a mini-empire, with two bustling restaurants and charcuterie shipping out daily to all fifty states. In his debut cookbook, salumist and co-owner Elias Cairo dives deep into his distinctly American charcuterie, offering step-by-step recipes for confits, pâtés, sausages, salami, and more. But that is only the beginning. Writer Meredith Erickson takes you beyond cured meat, exploring how Cairo’s proud Greek-American upbringing, Swiss cooking adventures, and intense love affair with the outdoors have all contributed to Olympia Provisions’ singular—and delicious—point of view. With recipes from the restaurants, as well as extensive wine notes and nineteen frankfurter variations,  Olympia Provisions  redefines what American charcuterie can be. From the Hardcover edition. http://dlvr.it/R1YwHQ
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kylecow · 8 years ago
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Euphemisms for Male Masturbation
You know them, you love them...but you don't know ALL of them. Here are some great ways of talking about masturbation without actually saying masturbation. Some are funny. Some are strange. But hey, aside from performing the act itself, reading this list is the most entertaining thing you'll do today.
Abusing the wicked stick
Adjusting the antenna
Aiding and abetting a known felon
Applying the hand brake
Arguing with Henry Longfellow
Arm-wrestle with your one-eyed vessel
Attack the one-eyed purple-headed warrior
Audition your hand puppet
Backstroke roulette
Badgering the witness
Barking up the wrong tree
Bash the candle
Basting the ham
Battling the purple-headed yogurt slinger
Being rough with the sex stick
Be your own best friend
Beat the bishop
Beat the bologna
Beat the dummy
Beat the meat
Beat the pud
Beat the stick
Beat up your date
Beef tips stroking off
Bleed the weed
Blow your own horn
Bludgeon the beefsteak
Bop the bologna
Bop the bonzo
Box the Jesuit
Box with Richard
Brushing up on your typing skills
Buff the banana
Bugger your hand
Building upper-body strength
Burp the baby
Burp the worm
Butter the corn
Calling down for more mayo
Calling in the secret service
Caning the vandal
Caulking the cracks in the bathroom tile
Charm the snake
Check for testicular cancer
Cheese off
Choke Kojak
Choke the chicken
Choke the sheriff and wait for the posse to come
Clamp the pipe
Clean your rifle
Cleaning out your account
Clear the snorkel
Climb the tree
Closet Frisbee
Combing the hair on your bald pig Sally
Combing your hair
Communing with nature
Consulting with your silent partner
Corral your tadpole
Couch hockey for one
Crank the love pump
Crank the shank
Crimp the wire
Crown the king
Crushing pop cans in the dark
Cuddle the kielbasa
Cuff the carrot
Daisy-chaining
Dancing in the dragon's fiery breath
Dancing with the one-eyed sailor
Date Miss Michigan
Date Mrs. Palmer and her five daughters
Date Rosie Palm and her five sisters
Debugging the hard drive
Defrosting the fridge
Digital penile oscillation
Discovering your own potential
Distributing free literature
Do handiwork
Do it your way
Do the janitor thing
Do the white knuckler
Doing your homework
Drain the monster
Dry humping the ottoman
Eating grapes with the one-armed man
Electing the President
Engage in safe sex
Exercise one's right
Exercising your right to privacy
Fastening the chin strap on the helmet of love
Feed the ducks
Feeding bologna to the Smurfs
Feeling your way around
Fiddle the flesh flute
Firing the pound gun
Fishing with dynamite
Fist your mister
Five knuckle shuffle
Flick your Bic
Fling your phallus
Flip the bishop
Flipping your omelet
Flog the bishop
Flog the dolphin
Flog the dong
Flog the log
Flog the mule
Flogging the egg man
Fly fishing
Fondle your flagpole
Free Willy
Frost the pastries
Frosting your maple bar
Frying up the corndog
Gallop the old lizard
Gardening with the golden trowel
Genital stimulation via phallengetic motion
Get a date with Slick Mittens
Get the German soldier marching
Get to know yourself
Get your pole varnished
Give it a tug
Give your low five
Giving the half-blind dog a run for his money
Go a couple of rounds with ol' Josh
Go blind
Go on a date with Fisty Palmer
Go on a date with Handrea and Palmela
Go the blow
Going Hans Solo on Darth Vader's head Submitted by Jake W.
Goose the gherkin
Grease the pipe
Greasing the three-legged cow
Hand job
Hard labor
Have one off the wrist
Helping put Mr. Kleenex's kids through college
Hitchhike to heaven
Hitchhike underneath the big top
Hitting too close to home
Hoisting your own petard
Hold the bishop
Hold the sausage hostage
Holding your own
Hone the cone
Honk your horn
Hosing down the driveway
Hotfooting it to the nearest exit
Hug the hog
Hump your hose
Investing in pork bellies
Invoking the Oscar Meyer love spell
Jack hammer
Jazz yourself
Jerk Jamby
Jerk the gherkin
Left to your own devices
Letting the cat out of the bag
Liquidating the inventory
Locking the bathroom door
Look for ticks
Looking for clues with Fred and Daphne
Lope the mule
Love the Muppet
Love's labors lost
Lubricating the love monkey
Make a foreskin cone
Make instant pudding
Make the bald man puke
Making a cash withdrawal
Making chowder with sailor Ned
Making it up as you go along
Making magic with leftovers
Making soup
Making the bald man cry
Making the bread rise
Making the world safe for democracy
Mangle the midget
Manipulate the mango
Manual labor
Manual override
Master Bacon, meet Rosie Hancock
Meat with Mother Thumb and her four daughters
Milk the lizard
Milk the moose
Milk the self
Mount a corporal and four
Much goo about nothing
Nerk your throbber
Null the void
Oil the glove
Onan's olympics
One gun salute
One man band
One-night-stand with yourself
Opening the flood gates
Pack your palm
Paddle the pickle
Paint the ceiling
Paint the pickle
Painting the flag pole
Painting the picket fence
Palm the calm
Paying at the turnpike
Peel the banana
Perform diagnostics on your man tool
Pet the lizard
Pip the pumpkin
Play a little five-on-one
Play a one-stringed guitar
Play five against one
Play in a one-man show
Play peek-a-boo
Play pocket pinball
Play pocket pool
Play tag with the pink torpedo
Play the skin flute
Play tug-o-war with Cyclops
Play Uno
Playing it safe
Playing the one-stringed melody
Playing the single-string air guitar
Plugging in the toaster
Plunk your twanger
Polish Percy in your palm
Polish the family jewels
Polish the helmet
Polish the rocket
Polish the rock-hard staff of St. Peter
Polish the sword
Pound off
Pound the bald-headed moose
Pound the pud
Pound your flounder
Pounding the fence post
Prepare the carrot
Prime the pump
Pull rank
Pull the bologna pony
Pull the carrot
Pull the goalie
Pull the pole
Pull the Pope
Pull the pud
Pull your own leg
Pull your taffy
Pulling your own weight
Pulling yourself up by your own bootstrap
Pump the python
Pump the stump
Punch the clown
Punch the munchkin
Punish Percy in your palm
Putting your best foot forward
Putting your foot down
Putting your thumb in the porridge
Raining on your parade
Ram the ham
Relishing your hot dog
Riding the five-legged pony
Roll your own
Rolling it off the lot
Romeo and himself
Rope the pony
Rope the Pope
Rub one out
Rub the pink eraser
Rubbing Buddha's tummy
Run off a batch by hand
Sacrifice sperm to the god of lonely nights
Safest sex
Sailing the mayonnaise seas
Saluting the general
Sampling the secret sauce
Sand wood
Scour the tower of power
Scraping the bottom of the barrel
Scratch the itch
Screwing your courage to the sticking place
Secret handshake
Self abuse
Self-induced penile regurgitation
Sex with someone you really love
Shake hands with Abe Lincoln
Shake hands with the midget
Shake hands with the unemployed
Shake hands with your John Thomas
Shake hands with your wife's best friend
Shake hands with Yul Brynner
Shake the sauce
Shake the sausage
Shake the snake
Shaking hands with Dr. Winky
Shellac the shillelagh
Shemp the hog
Shift gears
Shine the helmet
Shine your pole
Shoot for the moon
Shoot putty at the moon
Shoot the airplane
Shooting yourself in the foot
Shuck your corn
Sizing things up
Slam the ham
Slam the salami
Slam the salmon
Slam the Spam
Slap high fives with Yul Brynner
Slap it
Slap pappy
Slap the carrot
Slap the clown
Slap the donkey
Slap the purple-headed yogurt pistol
Slap the salami
Slapping Johnny on the back
Sling the jelly
Smack the salami
Smiting the pink knight
Snap the monkey
Snap the rubber
Snap the whip
Solo flight
Solo marathon
Solo sex
Spank Elvis
Spank the bishop
Spank the frank
Spank the monkey
Spank the salami
Spank the wank
Spanking the rooster
Spending your Christmas bonus
Squeeze the cheese
Squeeze the juice
Squeeze the toothpaste in the middle of the tube
Squeeze your cheese-dog
Squeezing the happy lumberjack
Stewing in your own juices
Stinky pinky
Stir the batter
Stir the yogurt
Strain the main vein
Straining your cabbage
Stretching the truth
Strip-mining with the spaghetti man
Stroke the carrot
Stroke the mole
Stroke the one-eyed burping gecko
Stroke the satin-headed serpent
Stroke your poker
Stroke your Twinkie
Strumming the one-string harp
Take matters into your own hands
Take part in population control
Take the fifth
Take the monster for a one-armed ride
Taking a few practice shots
Taking a load off
Talk quietly to yourself
Tame the shrew
Taunt the one-eyed weasel
Teaching the Cyclops the lambada
Tease the weenie
Tenderize the tube steak
Tending to your own affairs
Test your batteries
That crazy hand jive
Thrash your thing
Thump the pump
Thump your thong
Tickle the ivory
Tickle the pickle
Tickle the taco
Ticklewigglejigglepickle
Tipping off the inspector
Toss the snag
Toss the turkey
Toss yogurt
Tug the slug
Twang the wire
Tweak your Twinkie
Twist your crank
Unleashing the alabaster yak
Unloading the gun
Unpacking the moving van
Varnish the flagpole
Varnishing the banister
Visiting with Papa Smurf
Wake the dead
Walk the dog
Walk the plank
Walking a mile in Mr. Wiggly's shoes
Wallowing in self pity
Wank with the one-eyed wonder weasel
Wash the meat
Wax the Buick
Wax the carrot
Wax the dolphin
Waxin' n' Milkin'
Whack it
Whack the weasel
Whack Willy
Whip the dummy
Whip the one-eyed trouser snake
Whip the one-eyed worm
Whip the rat
Whip the stiff
Whip the wire
Whip up some sour cream
Whip your dripper
Whitewashing with Huck and Tom
Whittle the stick
Wiggling your walrus
Windsurf on Mount Baldy
Wonk your conker
Work things out
Working at your own speed
Working late at the office
Working up a foamy lather
Working without Annette
Wrestle the dragon
Wrestle the eel
Wrestling with the bald champ
Wring out your rope
Wrist aerobics
Yank the crank
Yank the yo-yo
Yank your plank
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salamiwrites · 3 years ago
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Hi there, I hope you are doing well, if your match ups are open, no rush. I'd love one for Genshin Impact?
Who they are, some basic background information, (perhaps zodiac signs or enneagrams?!)
My zodiac is a taurus, I'm an INTJ-A, and ennaegram 1w2. Personality is quiet and reserved. I like small and simple things, I write and sometimes sing when alone. I look out for others and always have down time to simply "be" in the world and not of the world.
Their type - I love the kind and reserved types. The kind of people that slowly enter your life then leave a lasting impact on your soul. You can't forget them. That have an air you can be comfortable around, be there and listen to the atmosphere. Tall, and over all lovely eyes.
Their sexuality - Demisexual~
Love language (ex. acts of service, physical touch..) - love language is acts of kindness, and small gestures, face touching or simple head patting.
sfw/nsfw/both - Both please? if not feeling the nsfw, then no need for it.
Thank you so much for taking the time to ask invidia ❤️❤️❤️!!
#MATCHUP MASTERLIST #SUBMIT A REQ!
I match you up with....
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Kazuha!
Sfw: (nsfw under the cut by the way)
I thought of Kazuha the first time I read this, albeit he’s not that tall, but he has some pretty damn eyes
He would be glad that you’re quiet and reserved, since his whole life has been a hectic mess, he would find safety with you
I’d imagine he was enchanted with your singing, the way your soft singing wraps Kazuha in a deep embrace, the way it sounds smooth to the ear, he’d remember your songs, or (modern) he’d record your singing on his phone, AND PERHAPS SET IT AS HIS RINGTONE LMAO
You’d not be interested in him at first (probably friendzoned him), but then one day, he had to accompany traveller to Inazuma. The journey made you realise that you might have a thing for him, absence makes the heart grow fonder right?
When Kazuha catches wind of your affection for him, he would definitely go, “ah.. About time, y/n.” Then he would immediately go to his room, to craft up the perfect plan to confess.
When he confesses, don’t expect too much, for he is sort of… broke, but hey, the price of an item can’t be defined by its price tag right?
After you both get together, be ready to be a part of Beidou’s crew, since you both were old friends. (Beidou’s using this as an excuse but she doesn’t want her child having a long distance relationship… cuz…. Beiguang, they prob hit it up after beidou returns from a trip)
Mornings are peaceful for the both of you. Both of you would sleep face to face, and as he’s a light sleeper , he won’t move too much, so you both would remain in the same position as the night before.
Despite being an early riser, Kazuha still takes the time to wait for your internal clock to wake you up, gazing at your features, he finds himself loving you even more.
When you do wake up though, you would cup his face, caressing it. Something he has a tendency to do is to kiss your forehead, he finds it intimate and something that only the both of you have.
Ficcy time.
He first catches sight of you in Liyue, when he’s out running errands for Beidou.
While he was roaming throughout Inazuma, he became attuned to nature’s call, hearing and feeling came natural to him. During his venture in the city, he caught wind of a gentle murmur that seemed to be a song, this soft whisper caught his attention; he hadn’t heard such a warm and inviting tune in a long time, it stirred a certain.. warmth in him.
Not before long, he finds himself near the mouth of an alleyway. His gentle eyes scanned his surroundings carefully, making sure there was no one approaching. He held onto his groceries tightly, and as he saw you, his grip loosened.
You looked heavenly, your skin glowed under the Liyue sun, your hair looked soft to the touch, and dare I say, might be a perfect place to grip onto.
You were staring at your piece of writing at the time, so you had not noticed the strange man approaching, trained solely on your work.
Kazuha at first, felt positively enamoured with you, he never thought of love, he was a traveller, he insists. Of course, it wasn’t his first time experiencing love, hell, he would’ve been well sought after if it wasn’t for his status as a traitor in Inazuma. However, he never had thought about love that way, not like how others do. He’d never thought about the chance of travelling with a lover, getting married, settling in, not at all. He was so busy with the fact that he was on the run, the topic simply left his mind.
You kept humming until you found out you were no longer alone, living your gaze, you found yourself looking at a young man, he had white fluffy hair,
“Go on,” He hummed, “continue humming.”
Nsfw (please bear with me here)
I’d imagine he’s more of an intimate and romantic man, taking things slow during sex. Every move to him has meaning and is definitely a sucker for face sitting (him giving)
He’d be fine with being sub or dom, he’s more of a go with the flow person. THOUGH….. If you choose to be dominant, he will absolutely get turned on, be ready for a horny mess
Being calm and composed even during sex is his specialty, however, as I said before, he can be a bit … horny
Kaedehara Kazuha is a patient man, he likes to take things slow during sex, that includes teasing. If he’s feeling down bad that day, I’d say he would edge you (if he was dominant at least)
He’s pretty vanilla at first, since he’s actually a virgin, but after you both get closer, you’ll find him experimenting with different things, of course it was a surprise when he pulled out his v card cause he seemed like he was really experienced (i’m sure Beidou gave him a 2 hour lecture on things to do and not do during sex)
He’s a shoulders kinda guy in my opinion, he loves to massage any knots from your shoulders after a long day, the way his calloused hands rub over your shoulders, the way he holds a firm yet gentle grip on your shoulders while he fucks you from behind, ah, pure bliss
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frappislazuli · 8 years ago
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RULES: Tag 10 people you want to know better
Relationship Status: currently dating @zachmyers1994​ (a loser tbh)
Favorite colours: Blues and greens, usually, with the occasional purple.
Pets: none right now
Last song I listened to: Whatever was playing in @bronnie-shipping-on-ebay​’s car, which idk what it was honestly
First fandom: …..it miiiiight be Sonic the Hedgehog, although I guess it depends on what level of “fandom” we’re talking about here
Hobbies: Video games, the internet (if… that’s a hobby…), doodling, music (sometimes; it’s complicated)
Favorite book: Probably one of the Harry Potter books.  Yeah that’s boring, but I don’t read much
Worst thing I’ve eaten: I tried some type of goat cheese and the texture was like.... almost fuzzy or something.
Favorite place: Maybe home?
1. Are you named after someone? My aunt
2. When is the last time you cried? Uhhhhh probably within the last week to a month, but I couldn’t tell you when exactly or why
3. Do you like your handwriting? I don’t mind it; it’s everyone else who has to suffer
4. What is your favorite lunch meat? Roast beef or salami are always good
5. Do you have kids? NOPE
6. If you were another person, would you be friends with you? Hahahahahahahahahhaha… probably not
7. Do you use sarcasm? A lot, yeah
8. Do you still have your tonsils? Yup.
9. Would you bungee jump? Maybe? I’d lean towards “no.”
10. What is your favorite kind of cereal? Reese’s Puffs, probably
11. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? No I’m lazy
12. Do you think you’re a strong person? Ehh? I can carry things I guess? Emotionally, I’m just… there.
13. What is your favorite ice cream flavor? All… of…. Them… Okay but seriously if it has like chocolate or caramel in it I’m probably down.
14. What is the first thing you notice about people? Probably hair.  My hair’s “weird” so I compare a lot.
15: Red or pink? red
16. What is the least favorite physical thing you like about yourself? Probably my weight in general.  I’m not “fat” per se, but I feel like I’d look better if I were skinnier.
17. What color pants and shoes are you wearing now? No shoes; green, white, and red plaid sleep pants
18. What was the last thing you ate? McDonald’s egg McMuffin and a Caramel Frappe (classy, I know)
19. What are you listening to right now? The sound of the fan going.
20. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Blue
21. Favorite smell? Brownies baking is always good.
22. Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone? Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh………….. Probably one of my parents or Zach.  I never actually TALK on the phone, just texting and messaging.
23. Favorite sport to watch? I don’t do the sports thing, man
24. Hair color? Dark brown
25. Eye color? Brown
26. Do wear contacts? Nope.
27. Favorite food to eat? Maybe macaroni and cheese, or cookies, or ice cream. I like food a lot.  Cheese is good, and chocolate is good.
28. Scary movies or comedy? Comedy, but only because nobody I hang out with is really THAT into watching scary movies.
29: Last movie you watched? Star Wars Episode IV
30. What color shirt are you wearing? Black
31. Summer or winter? Winter, fight me on this
32. Hugs or kisses? Hugs, from friends and family
33. What book are you currently reading? None.  I’m not a huge fan of reading books anymore.
34. Who do you miss right now? Maybe Zach or one of my old high school friends who I haven’t seen or talked to in forever.
35. What is on your mouse pad? I don’t use a mousepad regularly, actually
36. What is the last tv program you watched? Something on Food Network.  Probably Chopped.
37. What is the best sound? As far as non-musical sounds go, I like trains.  
38. Rolling Stones or The Beatles? I’m more familiar with The Beatles, so them I guess
39. What is the furthest you have ever traveled?  Florida (from Indiana).
40. Do you have a special talent? I can make those microwave cups of mac and cheese without looking at the directions most of the time. I get ALL the girls, yo
41. Where were you born? Indiana (it’s stupid here and I’m sorry we suck)
42. People you expect to participate in this survey? Probably @bronnie-shipping-on-ebay and/or @smoll-but-mighty but idk
Tagged by @squanch-loser with the following questions:
Do you wear socks to bed? Sometimes, but I usually take them off     before I actually go to sleep, even if it’s cold.
TV shows or movies? Honestly? I prefer Youtube to both at this point, so it’s kinda hard to decide.  I’m more likely to start a TV show because you can stop whenever you want, but movies are nice because you can just watch one and be done with it because it’s all one unit.
A fictional setting you’d like to live in: Okay this is kinda lame, but Stark Tower from the Marvel MCU would be kinda cool I think.
Vampires or werewolves? Vampires, but like Marceline from     Adventure Time and not Twilight vampires.
How many languages do you speak? One: English.  I took Spanish in high school and I WISH I could be better at it, but I’m lazy and tired and don’t have a lot of motivating factors to keep learning it.  I don’t know a lot of people IRL that speak Spanish (and a lot of the ones I’ve known also speak English and would probably be more comfortable with me speaking English since I’m white/black).
What’s your favorite band/music artist? I’m bad at this question, but I usually default to Paramore or Green Day.
What’s your dream job? Honestly my dream job would be no job…. But     working on music for games would be cool, I guess.
What’s the weirdest dream you ever had? Okay tmi I suppose but let’s just say some of the weird ones are generally nsfw soo… we’ll leave it at that and I won’t go into details haha
An unpopular opinion: I don’t like when the culture is like, “mean” to people with “nerd”  hobbies who are gamers or watch anime or whatever.  Like yeah, there’s a lot of annoying  people who do those things, but there’s a lot of annoying people with ANY  hobby or whatever.  Plus there’s ALL sorts of different people with these “nerd” hobbies.  You’re not just making fun of the cishet white dude who only eats Cheetos, lives in his parents’ basement until he’s in his 40s, and fetishizes Asian girls because of his “waifu.”  You’re also making fun of minorities, women,     the LGBT community, etc, who like “nerd” things.  Like, you can joke about gamers a little and it’s fun, or you can point out problems with the gaming community (while also understanding that every community has its problems), but some people take it too far and it’s just like… being mean to people with hobbies for no reason and making dumb assumptions. It’s so minor, but I find it annoying sometimes because I’m a dumb nerd lol
Do you wear glasses? Yup.
Coffee or tea? Both, but coffee is better.
MY 11 QUESTIONS FOR THOSE WHO GOT TAGGED
What’s the best gift you’ve ever gotten? (or a really cool one)
Can you burp on command?
What’s your favorite physical thing you like about yourself?
What do you usually default to when you’re mindlessly drawing?
What do you like most about the place you live in currently?
Do you have siblings?
Where’s your favorite restaurant to eat?
Do you wear makeup regularly?
What’s your typing speed?
Do you believe in astrology?
What’s your favorite type of sandwich?
(these are lame omg sorry)
I tag @bronnie-shipping-on-ebay, @smoll-but-mighty, @zachmyers1994, @beandonflowers, …. And anyone else who sees this and wants to do it (basically I tagged mutuals who I don’t think have done it yet lol)
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ecotone99 · 5 years ago
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[HM] Abe Froman: Sausage King of Chicago
Logline: We find out why Abe Froman never made his lunch reservation at Chez Quis during Ferris Bueller's Day Off.
______________
Abe Froman gets chauffeured every morning, by Dino, his driver of 15 years, to his luxurious office on the Magnificent Mile in downtown Chicago. Chicago was his town; he had run the city like a king for over 30 years. That's because he was a king; he was the Sausage King of Chicago. From the very beginning, Abe had created his sausage empire out of nothing, and now they're spanning seven continents, as an Antarctic research station now receives his sausage as well. He was one of the true untouchables of Chicago.
On the morning of June 11th, 1986, Abe arrived at his office and was greeted by his long-time secretary, Paloma Lowry.
"Hey Abe, Freddy Peterson already called twice this morning. Paloma said.
"All right, give him a call and patch it into my office," Abe says as he shuffles past.
"Sure thing, boss," Paloma says.
As Abe opens the door, Freddy's waiting for him; he looks back to Paloma,
"I thought you said he called?" Abe asks.
"He did call twice, but then he also showed up, I got his machine, should I leave a message?" Paloma says as Abe just shuts the door.
As Abe enters his office, he picks up his customary morning sausage,
"Delicious, I could eat sausage all day and all night," Abe says.
"Don't you worry about heart disease?" Freddy asks.
"Worth it, there's a reason why sausage is Jesus backward," Abe says as he has a seat at his desk.
"Alright, Freddy, give me the scoop, what's going on?" Abe asks.
"Profits are down, sales are down, the stock price is down, I think everything is down except your blood pressure," Freddy says.
"What's the problem, sausage is sausage, what's changed?" Abe questions.
"People's tastes are changing, take for instance turkey sausage, tofu sausage, farm-raised sausage," Freddy says.
"Farm-raised? what I look like over here, Ol' McDonald?" Abe sarcastically answers.
"There's some competition in the market," Freddy says.
"That's crazy, I've been the Sausage King of Chicago for 30 years now, no one can touch me," Abe boasts.
"I would say that your number one threat, are the Sausage Brothers out of Oklahoma, they just built a sausage factory in South Chicago. They offer all these new types of sausage," Freddy says as he turns on their commercial on the television.
The sausage brothers are seen walking on a farm,
"We’re the Sausage Brothers, we've been making sausage in the heartland of Oklahoma for over ten years now. We've perfected our recipe, and guarantee that our sausage flavor will be a familiar yet a unique experience for you," The first sausage brother says.
"Yes, give our sausage a try, we assure you'll want more!" The other sausage brother says.
"Get Sausage Brother's Sausage today, it's sold worldwide in a supermarket near you," the narrator says. The commercial pans to sunset and a jingle plays,
"Sausage Brothers, you can't beat our meat."
"That's what we're up against," Freddy says as he stops the VCR.
"Brothers? Aiming to take out the king, I don't think so, how close is it?" Abe asks.
"Let me put it this way, three years ago, you had them beat by 38% market share, just last week it was down to 12%," Freddy says.
"I want to meet these guys, Paloma!" Abe screams.
"Yes," Paloma says through the intercom.
"Get these sausage cousins from Oklahoma on the phone, I want to have lunch with them today," Abe shouts even though he can use the intercom.
"You want your normal table at Arturo's?" Paloma asks.
"No, I want to put these guys in their place, give me a table for three at the fanciest restaurant you can find," Abe shouts. Paloma searches through her Rolodex,
"I could make a reservation at Chez Quis?" Paloma says.
"Lock it in," Abe says.
The first thing Abe does every morning is join a conference call with the organization called the Royalty of Meats. There was the Sheik of Salami, the Prince of Pastrami, the Viceroy of Veal, the Lord of Lamb Chops, and last but not least, the Archduke of Prosciutto. They supported each other, Abe told them about his Sausage Brother's problem, and they said they would look into it. When Abe gets off the conference call, Abe and Freddy head out.
"Paloma, have Dino bring the car around, I want to do a little recon before our lunch with the Sausage Nephews," Abe says. Abe has Dino take him to the Sausage Brother's, South Chicago, Sausage Factory. They park across the street and look at the comings and goings.
"It just looks like a normal factory to me, nothing out of the ordinary," Freddy says.
"To the untrained eye, remember I cut my teeth on sausage factories, I've never seen one that didn't have a few violations. We have to get in there," Abe says deranged.
They notice that every time a delivery is received, the security guard goes back into his office with the driver, leaving the front door unguarded. They calculate that they have about 30 seconds to sneak into the factory. They wait for the next delivery, and they're in there.
Abe and Freddy find some uniforms and sneak around the strangely clean sausage factory. Not a surface is bloodied; it doesn't even smell like a sausage factory.
"Is this a slaughterhouse or a hospital, I can't even tell," Abe says. They make their way down to the factory floor; sausage is coming off the line,
"This sausage is longer and wider than mine," Abe says concerned.
"It's not about the size of the sausage, and may I add, sir, your sausage is magnificent," Freddy says.
"You're just saying that," Abe says. They walk to another room, and there's cooked sausage coming off the line. Abe can't help himself; he takes one of the sausages and pops it in his mouth.
"Aw, the sausage is like butter in my mouth, this is probably the best sausage I've ever tasted. We're so screwed, it was a nice run, but it's over now," Abe says. Freddy hits a button that reveals the beginning of the production line; they see human bodies on a conveyor belt being dumped into a vat, the Sausage Brothers make their sausage out of humans! Abe tries to wipe the taste off his tongue; he tries to puke, but can't.
"I can't puke up sausage; it's against my religion," Abe says.
"We have to alert the world; Sausage Brothers are people!" Freddy yells. Just as they're about to run away from the factory, both of them are hit over the head and knocked unconscious.
Freddy and Abe wake-up and they're in the Sausage Brother's office, confronted by the brothers themselves and some armed guards.
"Abe Froman, The Sausage King of Chicago, it truly is a pleasure to meet you, your sausage is a pleasure to see," one of the sausage brothers says.
"Yeah, but your sausage is beyond its expiration date, now," the other sausage brother says.
"What are you going to do, kill us? I got lunch reservations, you know," Abe says.
"Yeah, lunch reservations with us," one of the sausage brothers says.
"Oh yeah, well, people are going to be looking for us, you're not gonna make us into some sausage patty," Abe says.
"Sausage patty, for the king, no, no, no, we've got a nice kielbasa planned for you," a sausage brother says. All of a sudden, the Royalty of Meats bust through the door, the Viceroy of Veal punches one of the sausage brothers in the face. The Sheik of salami, using two salami sticks as nunchucks, subdues the two security guards. The Archduke of Prosciutto comes in and delivers a knockout blow to the other sausage brother. The Lord of Lamb Chops and the Prince of Pastrami come in and untie Freddy and Abe.
"How did you know we needed help?" Freddy asks.
"One royalty meat always knows when another is in danger," the Archduke of Prosciutto says.
"Go out, alert the world of the Sausage Brothers truth," the Lord of Lamb Chops says.
"We've got a couple more sausages to make ourselves," the Viceroy of Veal says as he throws one sausage brother on top of another.
Abe and Freddy rush back to Dino, who's waiting in the car. They speed away to alert the media, but traffic is heavy that day,
"What is going on, we haven't moved in a half-hour?" Abe asks Dino.
"There's some type of parade going on," Dino says.
"A parade, in the middle of the week?" Freddy asks.
"I don't know; I guess the script called for a parade," Dino says.
Abe sees a supermarket up ahead,
"I've got to get something to eat, we were supposed to eat an hour ago," Abe says.
He gets out of the car with Freddy and enters the supermarket; they offer samples of the Sausage Brothers sausage at the door, Abe picks up a few and swallows them whole.
"Abe, we just find out that people are in the sausages!" says Freddy.
"That's right; I hope I'm not developing a taste for human flesh," Abe says. They stop the sausage giveaway, screaming throughout the store,
"Sausage Brothers are people; Sausage Brothers are people!" One customer replied,
"Yeah, we know, we saw them in their commercials."
Abe and Freddy are driven out of the store; they wait for another hour and a half in traffic. They pass Chez Quis on the way back. Abe decides to go in to see if they'll honor his reservation from before, but the restaurant calls the police saying he’s attempting to impersonate The Sausage King of Chicago.
They finally get back to Abe's office.
"Oh, it's been a long day, I could really use a day off," says Abe.
"It could be worse, have you heard of this Ferris kid, they say he might die."
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mysteryshelf · 6 years ago
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BLOG TOUR - The Vampire Knitting Club
The Vampire Knitting Club
by Nancy Warren
on Tour October 15 – November 16, 2018
Welcome to
SHANNON MUIR’S THE PULP AND MYSTERY SHELF!
DISCLAIMER: This content has been provided to SHANNON MUIR’S THE PULP AND MYSTERY SHELF by Partners in Crime Book Tours. No compensation was received. This information required by the Federal Trade Commission.
Synopsis:
At a crossroads between a cringe-worthy past (Todd the Toad) and an uncertain future (she’s not exactly homeless, but it’s close), Lucy Swift travels to Oxford to visit her grandmother. With Gran’s undying love to count on and Cardinal Woolsey’s, Gran’s knitting shop, to keep her busy, Lucy can catch her breath and figure out what she’s going to do.
Except it turns out that Gran is the undying. Or at least, the undead. But there’s a death certificate. And a will, leaving the knitting shop to Lucy. And a lot of people going in and out who never use the door—including Gran, who is just as loving as ever, and prone to knitting sweaters at warp speed, late at night. What exactly is going on?
When Lucy discovers that Gran did not die peacefully in her sleep, but was murdered, she has to bring the killer to justice without tipping off the law that there’s no body in the grave. Between a hot 800-year-old vampire and a dishy detective inspector, both of whom always seem to be there for her, Lucy finds her life getting more complicated than a triple cable cardigan. The only one who seems to know what’s going on is her cat … or is it … her familiar?
First in a new series of paranormal cozy mysteries!
  Book Details:
Genre: Paranormal Cozy Mystery Published by: Ambleside Publishing Publication Date: September 2018 Number of Pages: 250 ISBN:13 9781981498970 ASIN: B07HDBQ7BB Series: The Vampire Knitting Club #1 Purchase Links: Amazon Goodreads
  Read an excerpt:
CHAPTER ONE
Cardinal Woolsey’s knitting shop has appeared on postcards celebrating the quaint views of Oxford, of which there are many. But when a visitor has tired of writing ‘wish you were here’ on the back of pictures of the various colleges, the dreaming spires, and the dome of the Radcliffe Camera, a cozy little shop painted blue, brimming with baskets of wool and hand-knit goods, can be so much more inviting.
My grandmother Agnes Bartlett owned the knitting shop and I was on my way to visit after spending a very hot month at a dig site in Egypt visiting my archeologist parents.
Gran was always ready to wrap her warm arms around me and tell me everything was going to be all right. I needed comforting after discovering my boyfriend of two years Todd had stuck his salami in someone else’s sandwich. I referred to him now as my ex-boyfriend The Toad. I was thinking about Gran’s wisdom, her hugs and her home made gingersnaps, when I started to feel as though cold, wet fingers were walking down the back of my neck.
My wheeled suitcase clanked and rattled behind me along the cobblestones of Harrington Street as I looked around, wondering what had caused the heebie-jeebies.
The October day was chilly and crisp and, in the mid-afternoon, the street was busy with shoppers, tourists and students. Church bells chimed three o’clock. When I glanced ahead, I saw my beloved Gran. She wore a black skirt, sensible shoes and one of her hand-knit cardigans, this one in orange and blue. She was walking with a glamorous woman in her sixties whom I didn’t recognize. I thought Gran looked confused and my hackles immediately rose. The glamor puss was holding an umbrella over Gran’s head, even though the day was dry and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
I waved and called, “Gran!” moving faster so my suitcase began to bounce.
I was sure they saw me, but as I sped toward them, they veered down a side street. What on earth? I lifted my case and began to run; though my case was so heavy it was more of a grunting stagger.
“Gran!” I yelled again. I stopped at the bottom of the road where I’d last seen them. There was no one there. A dry, shriveled leaf tumbled toward me and from a window ledge a small, black cat regarded me with what looked like pity. Otherwise, the street was empty.
“Agnes Bartlett!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.
I stood, panting. The side street was lined with a mixture of half-timbered cottages and Victorian row houses, all clearly residential. Gran hadn’t popped into a shop and would soon emerge. She was visiting in one of those homes, presumably. I wondered if it belonged to her friend.
Well, there was no point standing there. I’d go to Cardinal Woolsey’s and wait for Gran there. Her assistant, Rosemary, would be running the shop and I could let myself into the upstairs flat and unpack while I waited for my grandmother to return.
I retraced my steps, but when I reached the entrance to the quaint shop and tried the door, it didn’t open. I tried again, pushing harder, before my other senses kicked in and I realized that no lights were on inside.
A printed sign hung on the windowed front door. It said, “Cardinal Woolsey’s is closed until further notice.” At the bottom was a phone number.
Closed until further notice?
Gran never closed the shop outside her regular closing days. And if she had, where was her assistant?
I stood on the sidewalk that feeling came again, like cold fingers on the nape of my neck.
***
Excerpt from The Vampire Knitting Club by Nancy Warren. Copyright © 2018 by Nancy Warren. Reproduced with permission from Nancy Warren. All rights reserved.
  Author Bio:
Nancy Warren is the USA Today bestselling author of more than 60 novels including the Toni Diamond cozy mystery series.
She shares her time between Victoria, British Columbia, and Bath in the UK.
Catch Up With Nancy Warren On: nancywarren.net, Goodreads, Twitter, & Facebook!
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sandwichbully · 7 years ago
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Joe’s Market & Deli, 12 September 2018
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   Sometimes, you get trick-fucked.    Trick-fucked is the term a couple of the guys back in BG coined. Not my hipster doofus friends, no, the other friends. The ones that tried to dress like they were in The Matrix but wound up looking like the Allentown Brothers. The ones that wore those creepy Marilyn Manson contact lenses on purpose. The ones where, to qualify as “the weird one” in the group, you had to wear a jester’s hat and that guy lost his virginity before you did. The ones where the “intellectual” of the group called you a bigot and a sheep running up to November 2016 and then blocked you on Facebook whole years after you forgot you were connected on Facebook. Those friends. The friends where you hear one of them moved to Boston and married a marine biologist and you sighed a heavy sigh of relief and you thought, “Thank fuck he got out,” and then you saw his brother on Facebook, guy pushing thirty, and he’s showing off his dental implants that make it look like he has fangs and you just... closed... your laptop and went the fuck outside. Those were the guys that coined the term trick-fucked, a term I rarely use because, let’s be adults about this, it sounds like a rape euphemism. It’s not. It means you got tricked so bad you got fucked.    Were you tricked? Yes.    Did you wind up fucked? Yes.    You got trick-fucked.    Just like I got trick-fucked today.    So I’m in the mood for an Italian sub and I Google “italian deli” and I get the standard answers and I see this joint called Buon Giorno. OK, I can fuck with this. Listing on Google Maps says seven point eight miles. Let’s click on this and...    Eleven miles? Hold on. Click back.    Seven point eight miles. Uh... Click and...    Eleven miles. OK, well show me on the map.    OK, listing says seven point eight miles, map says eleven. No biggie. This is in... Lilydale? Well, this is pleasant sounding. Lilydale. OK, how do I get there?    What?    No, I’ve been on that trail. You’ve got me doing some off-road shit and the trip is an hour and change by bike? I don’t know, man, I just posted a month ago that I’m over making forty five minute sandwich runs, why would I make an hour nine minute sandwich run? And that’s one way. Were talking almost two and a half hours round trip for an Italian sub. Isn’t there anywhere closer?    Hence Joe’s Market & Deli, up in Como. A lot closer, nobody has to go off road, I know the neighborhood, and it still matches my criteria of me never having been there before. Pictures show a bunch of burgers and burritos and shit on the menu but for once Yelp proved helpful and a guy wrote that he got their hot Italian sub every day. That is all I need. Get on the bike, head up to Como, pretty much following the path I took to get to work every day when I worked at UCare.    Pop in and there’s the menu board full of shit I don’t want and then there’s the menu board with what I’m looking for and they almost nabbed me at the “Philly” until I saw they used Swiss which, I’m looking around this place, I know what kind of Swiss they’re using:
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   If they were using a good Swiss, yeah, I have no problem with Swiss on a cheesesteak because then you could taste it. But no, skipping this and going for the Hot Italian which is...    Italian sausage, provolone (the most offensively flavorless thing Sysco manufactures), giardiniera, and red onions, $6.95.    OK [scratches ear] wait, so, is there a cold Italian? [looks around] No? Is there [looks on all the menu boards] I mean, I guess I could try this. At least it doesn’t have lettuce on it.
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   But where are the tomatoes? the banana peppers? the salami? the ham? the pepperoni? the Italian dressing? the oregano in a can they try to fool you into thinking is “Italian seasoning”? the mayonnaise they look you in the eyes and tell you is aioli? This is uh... uh... OK. I guess this is what I came for. I go up to the counter and order the Hot Italian. I buy a Mexican Squirt while I wait.
   Quick aside, one time, Cody at the liquor store told me, “I saw a Mexican Squirt at Target.”    In response, I told him, “I saw a Mexican squirt on PornHub.”    Good night, everybody!
   AAAhhh, still proud of myself for that one.    Anyway, while I’m waiting, the muzak is playing nineties Aerosmith and I’m not feeling it. At least yesterday at Lowry Hill Meats they were bumping Pixies playing “Where Is My Mind” and followed that with LCD Soundsystem’s “Daft Punk Is Playing At My House”. Hipstery? Yes. Dated? So very. More easily digestible than nineties Aerosmith? You betcha. When it comes to the Thunderdome between that doofy ass Daft Punk song and “Angel”, I’m picking the Daft Punk song every time.    This shit? This shit was gross.    Speaking of, how was my sandwich?    Well, let’s see. I know I’ve been a Negative Nancy Grace lately and my kneejerk reaction to this sandwich is I don’t like it but how can every sandwich I’ve eaten be bad or subpar? Something must be wrong with me. I must not be doing my job right. Because it can be something crafted with care like yesterday’s sandwich or something slapped together over a grill like my burger the day before and I’m just not into it.    What did I say about Cafe Limon? [goes back a few posts] OK, I liked it but I just kept shit real brief.    But knowing that I’ve been down on everything lately as I eat my sandwich, I force myself, “OK, asshole, get analytical. What’s going on here?”    OK, the Italian sausage, start there. Pro: You can sure taste the fennel. Con: They cut two links length wise and then arrange them perpendicular to the roll.    Cheese. Pro: Uh... pass. Con: You can’t fucking taste it because it’s fucking Sysco provolone.    Giardiniera. Pro: It’s not too spicy, the veggies are crisp, it’s evenly distributed. I have my suspicion that this is Marconi Mild. Con: It overwhelms all the other flavors on this sandwich.    Red onion. Pro: God chocked them full of folic acid and magnesium and that’s real good for your colon. Con: Couldn’t taste them.    Bread. Pro: Toasty crisp on the outside, airy and fluffy on the inside. Con: None.
   You know the music that plays underneath that scene in A Christmas Story after Ralphie decodes the Little Orphan Annie code and he says, “A crummy commercial?” That was the music that accompanied my lunch. Because I didn’t investigate closer, I dove head first into a situation I knew nothing about, all I saw were the words “hot Italian” and I assumed it would be like an Italian but they would melt the cheese which I still think is not an unfair assumption and then I get to the place, I look at the menu and it turns out I got trick-fucked. By myself, by my assumptions, by that guy on Yelp. Who the fuck is that guy? Great, now I can’t find him. Oh, well.    Can I recommend this place?    Well, I have to go back to see what they do right because they’ve got some shitty reviews of varying quality but people who like them love them, swear by them, are over the moon for them so I have to go back and try something different.
   Just like you can try something different with your very own copy of Batpussy: A Speculative Fiction available through Barnes & Noble for only $10.10. (Lighten up, I’ve sold only three copies. I need to pimp myself.) This beautiful austere paperback speculates lies, that’s right, just straight up lies about how the actual movie that actually exists, Batpussy was made.    You’ll meet draft dodgers, dishonorable discharges, abused women, abusive women, racists, so many racists, and they all fuck each other and do coke and speed together and there’s a tie-in to a nationwide car theft network, it’s really bonkers, I think you’ll really like it. https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/batpussy-charlie-pauken/1129374780?ean=9781538094839
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