My Local;

Apr. 27th, 2009 06:47 pm
jessikast: (What What - Samwell)
Or: An Ill-Rhyming Love Poem

When I am hungry
But don't want to cook
There is no dilemma
To my local I'll look!

The place is called Sages
I could go on for pages
I have no rhyme scheme
You can see what I mean.

For Indian food there is no compare
Their decor is snazzy and their prices are fair
(Don't forget that they serve Kingfisher Beer).
And how effed up is my accent that these all rhyme?

I love their korma
Tikka masla in fine form-a
My tounge's not on fire
Yet their "medium" is higher
Than bland.
(Don't you hate that? When you order your food "medium" spiciness and you get it and it's not spicy at all? Just because I don't like hot-hot or even kiwi-hot, doesn't mean I want NO TASTE AT ALL.)

But the thing I love best
More than all the rest
Is that they deliver for free!
Bring the food straight to me!

Also, mmm, roti.

(P.S. Local fish'n'chip/chinese place: I love you too, even though your delicious wontons are overpriced! I was just in an Indian mood tonight! Oh, and the local kebab place is awesome too. And the actual "local" in the beer sense of the term, it's a classy shack. And Hell, who also deliver, I love you too, especially on free-delivery Tuesdays.)


jessikast: (Default)

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