Dumplings and Chocolate Mousse

 

My Other Asian Daughter will be leaving soon for an overseas adventure so I’m getting as much of her as I can. I’m going to miss her so much.

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Sweet Myjah sporting a summer onesie

She loves bringing shirtless hunks over to my house to cook for me, just like any dutiful Asian daughter should.

She invited me to go along on a naked hike and I was like, “Fuck no.” because

  1. I look way better with my clothes on and
  2. I am not going hiking with naked people young enough to be my kids.

Not gonna happen.

I posted the usual beefcake pictures because I know that when I’m 90 I will want to remember these days.

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I captioned it that way because we had dumplings and Chris insisted on bringing chocolate mousse to redeem himself after his last mousse disaster (it didn’t set). I wasn’t expecting the comments.

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The only criteria is being smart, funny, helpful in the kitchen and fine as hell but apparently I am a sexual predator, at least as far as my Facebook friends of friends are concerned.

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You’re next? He better be able to cook.

I suppose I should step up my game and venture into territory a little wilder than the usual affair: lots of cooking, the usual disorganized meal of courses getting served up as they become ready and often while people are still cooking, fed to each other with chopsticks and in no order in particular, and then everyone cleared out once I started falling asleep.

You know who got some major action? Sweet Alé. She and Bates got it on but it’s not an issue because polyamory is a thing amongst Kids These Days and I can jump on that train, at least where my super slutty cat is concerned.

I guess I should continue cultivating a little mystery around my shirtless dinner parties, even though they aren’t exactly my idea AND this time around Loony was the one who requested the hunks remove their shirts.

Most of the time I question everything I do but it is days like these where I wonder how I managed to get it so right.

3 thoughts on “Dumplings and Chocolate Mousse

    • To be fair, I wasn’t topless at the dinner party. You have to be male and in your 20s to take your shirt off. And let me be clear, I WAS FULLY CLOTHED AT THE HOTSPRING! There is no way I’m going to get cooked in the burning sun and eaten alive by mosquitos. No how. No never.

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