Pinko was my favorite vegetable. i had always loved green-beans, as a whole, and high-cut panties. when i met my first french-cut legume, however, my heart was never the same. i took it off the plate and lovingly rested it upon the counter where it couldn't see me devour its family, friends, and better business associates. after the ritual bowl of chocolate icemilk (better for you and cheaper than its better known cousin, icecream), i carefully dried its tears and took it to my bedroom to live with me. one day i finally heard it come out of its catatonia, sniffling. I begged and pleaded with it to tell me its name; Pinko finally replied, between sobs, and we kissed. Months later saw us breaking off the engagement because i had been fooling around with a string-bean in a string-bikini, and pinko was green with envy. my lover-bean started drinking until it affect both liver and kidney, then ran off to join the navy. I tried a few pinto beans, but they just aren't the same. the stringy tart who ruined by relationship ran off to lima, leaving me a lonely human bean. *snif*
thanks for asking.
it's bean a wonderful catharsis.
yes, John Allison asked all his readers to share the names of their favourite vege-tables. i told him my tale. he sent me a very lovely email, the corners still wet with his tears. thank you, john.
.