Leo 
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I’m a Libra but the only part that feels accurate to me is wanting to make sure everyone is happy and fed even if my methods are questionable 
Also a bridal meat doll seems like something straight out of a nightmare.
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I wanna see the rest!
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Mine is the best of the lot. Lamb loaf? Sure!
TOO TIRED FOR LOVE: An Erotic Exploration of Parental Free Time
He rested his gut against the kitchen surface. The fridge beeped furiously, reminding him to close it’s door, but he was deaf to the sound. He shamelessly slid the next piece of cheese into his gaping mouth, making a silent promise that this would be his last. But what had started as an innocent afternoon snack had ignited a pasteurised passion inside him that was now throbbing uncontrollably throughout his entire body.
Crumbs toppled down his chin. An avalanche of insatiable dairy dust gathered in his chest hair.
The top shelf taste of Cathedral City exploded across his tongue as he relentlessly cheddered himself in the mouth, covering his tongue in value-for-money, Devon-based buttery filth.
The packet lay back, opening itself up for him.
‘Finish me off’, it purred.
He groaned as he gripped the kitchen surface, sliding his fingers inside for another piece of heaven.
He knew this was wrong.
So wrong.
But just as he managed to pull himself away from the sinful moment, he heard a seductive cry floating towards him from the cupboard. The melody was unmistakable. It was the jumbo packet of Aldi own-brand party crisps he’d opened earlier, serenading him towards the rocks like a bevy of saturated fat-infused Sirens. He swung the cupboard open, gripped the bag firmly and tilted his head back. Partly in ecstasy, partly to throw as many crisps into his mouth as possible, defiling his taste buds further with the greasy menage-a-trois he was now powerless to stop.
Cheap crisps.
Cheap thrills.
Uninterrupted.
He was out of control.
Of course, normally by now, he’d have been caught red-handed. A small person would have detected his grubby game and interrupted his five second pleasure-grab by shouting angry jibberish and stealing the goods for themselves. If he was lucky he’d have heard them coming and deployed his signature fridge-slam / casual walk away combo, frantically chewing at his dirty secret to hide all evidence.
Eating cheese in his underpants wasn’t the example he wanted to set to his children.
Neither was refusing to share.
And those pint-sized snack filchers made him share everything.
Bastards.
But not today. They were at his mums till the morning and he was tasting the forbidden fruits.
His wife was in the shower. At least, so he thought.
He felt her hot lips breathing on the back of his neck.
She was panting quietly. He turned around to face her.
Her face was flush, the hastily wrapped bath towel barely covering her modesty.
‘I’m clean now,’ she announced in a husky tone. ‘And ready to get dirty,’ she continued, presenting him with a newly received text on her phone.
It was from Domino’s.
His pulse quickened.
She removed her glasses and placing the tip inside her mouth, spoke the words he’d ached to hear since they’d started their new diet, the day prior.
‘It’s Two for Tuesdays’ she whispered, allowing her fingers to slide slowly across her lips like an experienced rower waiting to dip her oar into the warm ocean on a crisp autumn morning.
‘I’ll use the joint account,’ he said.
He was taking control. She liked it when he did that.
He searched for his phone underneath the cheesy rubble that now covered the entire kitchen surface. But she put her moist hand up to his crumb-filled chest, stopping him briefly.
‘Don’t - I’ve got the app,’ she breathlessly moaned as she helped herself to the last few crisps. ‘If you order through the app you get a free side.’
He let out a primal groan. Her hand quivered as she punched up the app and scrolled through the menu.
Neither of them knew where the evening would lead them. But one thing was certain. Before the night was over, they would both be balls-deep inside a carb orgy of calorific proportions. And neither of them would be the same again.
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This is ridiculous yet I relate more to this assessment of Taurus than any serious astrology description of Taurus ever.
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As a Gemini with Leo rising and Pisces moon, I can attest to the truthfulness of these memes.
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That look of judgment on his face, like ‘no, you’re the asshole’.
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So Aries & Virgo I could both see made in the past few years with the keto and cauliflower trends. They are salvageable ideas with a few alterations and better photography.
But Aquarius is hurting my brain, probably because I’m pretty accepting of taking ham or bacon into a sweet/savoury space, but banana with hollandaise sounds like one of the worst food ideas ever. Perhaps if you changed them to plantain? Oh, or maybe this would have worked better with the types of bananas they had back then vs. the Cavendish? Probably not, the timing is too late.
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Holy crap those made me laugh SO HARD!!!
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Slow clap.
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blood is thicker than water, but the viscosity of liquids have no bearing on human social relationships
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