I love pasta with the homemade marinara sauce I had as a kid.
quote by Bernadette Peters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Homemade Love
Oh, oo.
Oo, baby.
I love cookin with honey.
I love to make you feel funny.
I love the way you do.
I want, I want it with you, yeah.
Homemade love, jelly roll love.
Homemade love.
I need a jelly roll sweetie.
Now, spread it oh spread it on me, babe.
Feels so good, on the top.
Spread it around, baby, till I drop ya.
Homemade love, hot jelly roll love.
Homemade love.
Oh, baby, oh baby,
I know you love it.
Homemade love, oh, baby.
I know you love it.
So love it.
Oh, homemade love, hot jelly roll love.
Homemade love.
Homemade love, hot jelly roll love.
Homemade love.
Oh, baby, baby, baby
Homemade love, hot jelly roll love.
Homemade love.
Oo, smokin,
Oo, baby, youre burnin
Oo, baby, its boilin, ah.
song performed by by Journey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Lasagna
La-la-la-la-lasagna
You want-a some-a lasagna magnifico
Or a-maybe spaghetti
Ay, you suppers a-ready now, where you go
Mama mia bambino
Mama mia bambino, samatta you
samatta you, samatta you
You should-a taste my lasagna
Ay, you no like-a lasagna
Thats okay too
How about-a calzone
Some-a nice minestrone, ats good for you
Have-a some marinara
Have-a some marinara, I know-a you like
I know-a you like, I know-a you like
La-lasagna
La-lasagna
La-lasagna
Would you like some-a zucchini
Or-a my homemade linguini, its hard to beat
Have-a more fettuccini.
Ay, you getting too skinny, you gotta to eat
Ay, mange, mange
(gargling)
Ay, you-a pass the lasagna
A-dont you get any on ya, you sloppy pig
Have-a more ravioli
You-a get roly poly, a-nice and-a big
Like you cousin luigi
Luigi, luigi, capisce paisan
Capisce paisan, capisce paisan
La-lasagna
La-lasagna
La-lasagna
La-lasagna
Hey
Hey
(laughing)
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
My sisters like cooking at my place. It has a bit more room, and the food tastes a little bit better. A big pot of spaghetti and sauce, some warm French bread - works all the time. I think I've been eating pasta for 26 years.
Homemade Music
Homemade music
By: jimmy buffett, michael utley, russell kunkel
1988
I ran into an old friend of mine in miami and I asked her where she had been all these years. she told me she had, died and gone to the suburbs. the next day I read where the japanes
Bought cbs records and figured that somehow these two events had to be related.
I aint no video king
I still have to sing
For my supper each night
You stand on the benches
I play in the trenches
Beneath the big spotlights
Lived in a suitcase for half of my years
I got strange little voices that live in my ears
Hall monster, mall monster
I cant be the old me no more
Chorus:
Homemade music aint on the radio
Homemade music searchin high and low
Homemade music where did all the good songs go
Cookin is a pleasure
Singin is a treasure
That most dont find
There aint no harm in tellin
I likes to eat my melon
Right on down to the rind
I had a hippie girlfriend when I was a kid
She died and went to the suburbs most of em did
Raisin puppies, having yuppies
Where did all the wild ones go
Chorus:
Homemade music aint on the radio
Homemade music jam it in, close the door
Homemade music where did all the good songs go
First there were records then cassettes and cds
Managers and lawyers then came the japanese
But homemade music still making sense to me
(sense to me, sense to me, sense to me)
Chorus:
Homemade music is funky and nice
Homemade music skates on very thin ice
Homemade music is part of my philosophy
Chorus:
Homemade music aint on the radio
Homemade music jam it in, close the door
Homemade music where did all the good songs go
Homemade music, give me my homemade music
Homemade music, should be on the radio
Dont dig that reglar bunk
The neville brothers got the funk
And homemade music should be on the radio
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
What is sauce for the goose may be sauce for the gander but is not necessarily sauce for the chicken, the duck, the turkey or the guinea hen.
quote by Alice B. Toklas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Pop LeRoc
Comeon and eat some pasta,
With your poppa...
Pop LeRoc!
Comeon and eat some pasta,
With your poppa...
Pop LeRoc!
Comeon and eat some pasta,
With your poppa...
Pop LeRoc!
To get the mood...
Like you know you want to!
And rock,
With poppa!
Let's make a feast,
By putting pieces...
Of some lox on top.
And then for fun,
We'll order pizza...
So very nice and hot!
That's what we'll do.
With green peppers too!
To move in the groove,
With pop the rocker!
Come on and eat...
Tasty pasta with me.
Pop LeRoc!
Your poppa.
Let's make a feast,
By putting pieces...
Of some lox on top.
And then for fun,
We'll order pizza...
So very nice and hot!
That's what we'll do.
Before this night is through.
Rock with pop the rocker!
Gonna rock with your poppa.
Comeon and eat some pasta,
With your poppa...
Pop LeRoc!
Comeon and eat some pasta,
With your poppa...
Pop LeRoc!
Comeon and eat some pasta,
With your poppa...
Pop LeRoc!
To get the mood...
Like you know you want to!
And rock,
With your poppa!
That's what we can do.
Before this night is through.
There's no ticking clock,
Around your poppa!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Like Tomato Sauce
i like tomato sauce
and so i keep lots of
and different kinds of
tomato sauces inside
the ref and when i open
it one night i thought
tomato sauce are also
water and i am in a trance
of some sort or something
i drink tomato sauce
and i remember you:
saucy, so saucy
i thought i am floating
in the river filled with
tomato sauce, yes,
my point is: be proud
i always think of you.
saucy, yes, so saucy.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You Want Me to Believe I Love You
You want me to believe I love you,
Like I do your fish shish kebabs?
Skewered perfectly between Vadalia onions...
Green pepper and fresh garden tomatos.
You don't want me to find it odd,
They are dipped into beer...
Before grilling them over a mesquite laced bar-be-que.
You think I should find the salmon chunks delicious?
With your homemade lemon and brown sugar sauce...
As I sip red wine and chew!
You want me to believe I love you...
Because you can whip up these recipes?
You think I enjoy making love with you...
Because you easily please and seductively tease?
You want me to believe I love you,
Because I'd be a fool if I did not?
Who do you think you are to believe,
You can weaken me like that?
I'm just here to enjoy the view from your window.
And the companionship I get,
As I play with your Tabby cat!
Don't ever believe,
I'm with you constantly...
Because I think you and I are a match!
I'm not giving up my bachelor life,
To become snapped up by your trap.
I am much too wise to be tricked like that!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Kentucky Homemade Christmas
They shut down the mine last summer, we're gettin' by on welfare
It's Christmas Eve, I'm walkin' home, not a dollar to my name
Night is almost on me, a night I'm almost dreading
No store bought gifts to open, but there'll be Christmas just the same
It's just another ho-omemade Christmas i-in Kentucky
Just odds and ends I fashioned with my hear-eart and with my hands
It's just another ho-omemade Christmas i-in Kentucky
Our fine and fancy homemade love, God's precious gi-ift from up above
Make up the homemade Christmas of this poor Kentucky man
There's a brand new Barlow knife with a shiny wooden handle
Gleamin' in the window down at Galen Johnson's store
My wide eyed little Billy Boy, his face pressed to the window
Too young for understandin' what it means to be so poor
It's just another ho-omemade Christmas i-in Kentucky
Just odds and ends I fashioned with my heart and with my hands
It's just another ho-omemade Christmas i-in Kentucky
Our fine and fancy homemade love, God's precious gi-ift from up above
Make up the homemade Christmas of this poor Kentucky man
Little Linda ain't no baby, hell she turns thirtee-een in April
She's been dreamin' about that dolly in the window for half her life
She's old enough to realise that it ain't never comin'
I'd damn near rob a bank to get that doll and Billy's knife
It's just another ho-omemade Christmas i-in Kentucky
Just odds and ends I fashioned with my hear-eart and with my ha-ands
It's just another ho-omemade Christmas i-in Kentucky
Our fine and fancy homemade love, God's precious gi-ift from up above
Make up the homemade Christmas of this poor Kentucky man
It's just an
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
If I could only have one type of food with me, I would bring soy sauce. The reason being that if I have soy sauce, I can flavor a lot of things.
quote by Martin Yan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.
quote by Marcus Terentius Varro
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Laissez Faire was very good sauce for the goose, labor, but was very poor sauce for the gander, capital.
quote by Benjamin Tucker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Tomato
My love is a tiny red cherry tomato
That has found it's way into my heart by way of,
'An omelette'
'A cheese sandwhich'
A kittenish quiche
A side salad, that slid in through the side entrance
A tiny glistening punnet that flirted with the light
A drink carton full of bloody juice
A red nose that passed itself off as a tomato
A tin of Italian agraphobic plum tomatoes
A pizza
A pie
A spicy tomato pasta
A bed of floating tomatoes in a home made punch
A seed which grew secretly from my garden bed
Into a vine
Ready to pick
This tomato love is mine
It also came into my heart by way of
A tin of soup
A bottle of ketchup
And alot of sauce
My love is born
Not yet filing for divorce
Yvette Smith march 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.
Easy Made Cake
Easy made cake...
Doesn't taste,
Homemade.
An easy made cake...
Doesn't taste,
Homemade.
Or does it age...
Like a fine wine.
Made from grapes,
Picked and saved...
Off of a selected vine.
Easy made cake...
Doesn't taste,
Homemade.
Or have a flavor staying,
In one's mind.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Facing The Door (Life Poem)
Here is life and love, pain and pleasure,
Ten years traversing those steps,
Tired waitress, twelve hours hell,
I am facing the door in Fratelli’s.
Too-jolly Australians on a budget,
Eating soup and dessert, are missing,
The pasta, the best part, it seems,
I am facing the door in Fratelli’s.
Miscreant male constantly corralled,
By his Austrian authoritarian aunt,
Filling her face with a pasta mountain,
I am facing the door in Fratelli’s.
New lovers lost in each other’s eyes,
Carpaccio di salmon slices sharp cold,
Their Gaja Barbaresco lust blood red,
I am facing the door in Fratelli’s.
Old lovers holding hands in silence,
Pasta warm feelings of Taglioni Fratelli,
This Chianti Classico two will soon be one,
I am facing the door in Fratelli’s.
Married couple, on different planes,
Broadcast to their neighbours the plans,
Of loveless friends in lifelong bondage,
I am facing the door in Fratelli’s.
Meal memories of two and more,
Of friends and family, work and play,
Life and love and unforgettable moments,
I am facing the door in Fratelli’s
poem by Ian Beckett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
4. A Merry Christmas
Gone shopping for good brandy butter
My homemade plum puddings in need
I don’t want a tin of rum sauce mix
It just wouldn’t do no indeed
Last night’s Christmas Eve rush was crazy
The shop had none left on the shelf
So I bought half a pound of best butter
To mix up with brandy myself
My mixer took brandy and butter
It churned the lot up to a paste
I drank what was left of the brandy
As I don’t like things going to waste
Everyone had a good dinner
With plenty of wine, port and sherry
But no one got fresh brandy butter
We all fell about slightly merry
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Frottage Heavy petting mutual masturbation
She tells me to meet her where the street dancers busk it.
leaves In the crowd I find her and begin a frotteuristic grind ≈ 'i want your body on me'
electric hands on her waist her butt rising in heat and sinking like on the tide of the hip hop. Then I follow her into a changing stall at the galleria where we engage in heavy petting, then we finish ourselves off in the elevator to the street of mutual masturbation … When I get to the apartment with a new shower curtain they are sitting at the table eating some sort of Pasta and meat sauce Cam telling her to EAT! …
News: sexual assaults on bunker hill, car arson in alston, bodies found gang style cement shoes…
poem by Jerome Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!