I Can Order Chinese By Myself
There is an old adage which states that a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Well I believe that a lot of females have forgotten that saying. But whose fault is it? The Mother’s for not teaching her daughter how to cook? The Daughter for not learning how to cook? or the Dad’s for walking out on the mother, leaving the mother to work all day and not find time for her child?
Regardless of whose fault it is, I’m a bit perturb at the idea that 75% of females I’ve been with can’t or couldn’t cook. There was the one who could only boil chicken, the one who burned a hamburger and another who knew how to order the best of everything that delivered. I can ORDER CHINESE BY MY DAMN SELF!!
Learn to cook watch Rachel “I’m not a Muslim” Ray, scream BAM from the kitchen every now and then when you through some seasoning in a pot of stew. I want to smell the aroma of basil and 35 herbs and spices resonating from the kitchen area every once in a while. I get tired of the scent of MSG coming from a brown paper bag with a white plastic bag with a smile on the front. I have at least 400 liltte pieces of cardboard in my cabinet drawer from take out. A million menus and way too many packets of soy sauce in my BRROOWWNN PAaapperr BAaagggg!! I feel like DJ. Khalid or something.
Besides I don’t want to have to look Mr. Chan in the eye while he fumbles for my change in his pockets with hopes that I tell him to keep the change. Because I’m not going to tell him to keep the change b/c I’m going to have to see him again in a few days because my girl can’t cook!! SMCH!!!