these words are not appropriate for children

among other things this weekend, i had a dessert that looked and felt like the physical embodiment of bataille's story of the eye. it was a panna cotta that came served in a small bowl featuring two egg-shaped globules set atop a lake of chocolate. one of the globules was a scoop of cream delicately melting over a bed of crunchy espresso flakes. the other globule was this mysterious gelatin that bounced expectantly when you poked it with a spoon, and when the rim of the spoon dared to push through its outer hymen, the entire globule shivered, trembled, collapsed as a stream of milky liquid trickled out slowly, spreading over the entire bowl. it was sweet, and cold, and sticky, and soft. it made me want to do indecent things.