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I go to the kitchen for sightseeing. I go to that country curiously rich camaraderie of odors. They live in buildings called pantries, grain bins. Fruits and vegetables live The Fridge, a perennial winter-white palace, in the cupboards and drawers, dishes, glasses, cups and cutlery are waiting for the time to match tasty treats and liquid, and then be rewarded with a stay at a resort there call dishwasher.
In this strange country, there is a resident who stands out above others. His clothing is exotic and it would seem that something shameful, it consists most often of a simple apron, when not directly naked. That itself has a beautiful collection of aprons, which contributed occasionally presenting him with one when I visit him.
have strange customs, though helpful, "that are pleasing to behold, and bring him groceries and distribute their content in order, make breakfast, lunch and dinner (yes, ladies, he does, and also with pleasure!), activate the push buttons spa or something I think is called washing machine - is it because she loves me by? -, which takes fragrant and clean clothes.
The few times I go to the kitchen, the residents are very grateful: usually greet me with a powerful erection, visible by the naked or even more evident if impossibly hidden by the apron. I play or handling a whim, but take care to avoid dismissal of their chores: I do not want to distract from its main and necessary occupation, which is cooking.
What does this verb? Girls, I do not know. And is that the language of the inhabitant of the kitchen is full of incomprehensible words to me: blender, juicer, detergent, pot, wash, blender, mop, pot, scrub ... And above all, cooking, the fundamental verb of the inhabitant.
certainly is a fascinating country worth visiting from time to time to contemplate their traditions, take some photos ... and then return to our comfy couch.
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