Quesadilla correction and Tit torture
2002-07-24 @ 9:51 p.m.
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I've been instructed as to the difference between tacos and quesadillas. What I gave a recipe for this morning would more accurately be called a taco. Soon I'm going to try it again as a quesadilla. That means putting the salmon and cheese in the tortilla, folding it over, and cooking it in a skillet on both sides to make it crispy.
I had my annual mammogram today. Sort like tittie torture and breast bondage all at the same time. Fortunately the last two technicians I've had have been reasonably attractive so I can enjoy it. This one warned me that the platform my breast gets put on was going to be cold. She doesn't know that I like cold. They always ask "How long have you had that tattoo?" in a king of stern voice - as if they expect me to say I just got it so they can warn me of the dangers of infection or something. I can hear the conversation in the break room:
"I x-rayed a woman today who had a tattoo on her breast! Can you imagine?"
"Oh, I think I did her last year! It was a starfish or something."
"Dolphins."
"Yeah, dolphins. A big one, too. Who would do such a thing to her breast?"
Wait 'til you see what else gets done to my body, girls. Maybe next year I'll come in with little dime-sized bruises on my breasts. Squeeze that between your plexiglass. Mmmmm.
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