She knew better than to listen to Chuck Palahniuk while eating breakfast. He rambled on with a firm tone about little boys jacking off in strange ways that would end them up in the hospital while she toasted her bread and tofu slices in a little olive oil in a pan. She was just too lazy at this point to wash the oil off her fingers, dry them and fiddle with the iPad to find something more palatable on YouTube so she let it roll. The bread was golden on one side and she placed it on her antique blue and white china plate. “The Arabs really knew how to jack off,” the words tumbled into her ears as she flipped the tofu slices. “The wax in his pee hole could be seen in the x-ray,” small disconcerting vomit feelings required repressing as she spread BBQ sauce on the bread and tossed on chopped lettuce as he went on to say something about little globs of semen in the pool floating about “and thats why they called it pearl diving”. She finished her tofu, BBQ and lettuce sandwich on nice crispy, organic multigrain bread slices thinking to herself, My stomach will be stronger for this, and simultaneously, Why am I listening to this obviously deeply disturbed man, and also, who I love so dearly for treading on taboo topics without batting an eye.
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