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[seoulman1]

He walked up the stairs, passing the letter box he remembered. He walked in the door and could sense something was different. Wether it was a microscopic change in atmospheric pressure or an as yet unknown mental ability laying dormant in his cerebral cortex, he knew it had arrived. It was like the time he knew that vicious croc was about to pull him under.

"Where, where is it" He yelled in a near psychotic fashion pacing up and down the kitchen like a lunatic. When he saw the jar it confirmed his intuition, "the Vegemite has arrived!" He glanced back and forth for near objects that may impede his path to the toaster. 'BAM SHLOCK DING" and the toast is cooked.

He opened the jar and the smell instantly welled in his nostrils like smell of roses on a clear spring day. The level of salivation was utterly disgusting, but he couldn't help it, his love for the spread has been held back far too long, finally the missing part of his soul has been brought to him and it was in the form of a dark and salty condiment.

He cried as he spread it. He had forgotten how much of a beautifully fragile operation it was. Too much and your mouth burns in a toxic salty overload but too little and you help but yearn for more. The actual spreading it was akin to that of Michealangelo, gracefully slicing out the finishing touches to David or a Geisha, unfolding her kimono in readiness for the days activities.

It was truly an emotional experience one that would stay with him for years to come. But it wasn't over, the climax was yet to come, and we must prepare for that. Without preparation and respect for good temporal flow, times like this can fall along the wayside. Like the way a deer is horribly slaughtered for its hide.

The most important thing in this entire experience is to not over emphasis its significance. Aftert all, it is just a bit of toast with Vegemite. With this in mind, he picked up the toast, now elegantly buttered, vegemited, with his thumb and middle finger, he placed the far left corner of the toast to rest lightly upon the tip of his tongue.

To say it was a flavor explosion would be like saying Fabio is a genuine Don Juan or like saying Rove Macmanas has talent. Yes there was a flavour explosion but it was so detailed and intricate that surrounding forms of time and space were quite possibly altered.

First there is the pre-bud registration. It is this time that the taste buds have recognised the existence of flavour. Like a sea urchin, they ready themselves by clenching in a pre-pounce mode.

Secondly there is the main registry period. It is this period that the full force of the flavour is experienced. It is when the bulk of the Vegimite is in direct contact with the mouth. It is a wondrous moment and one that is difficult to put into words.

Thirdly there is the descending aftershock. This is my personal favorite and one that should be savored. This is done by slowing down jaw movement to a pace of a cow, chewing its regurgitated cud. It is the time you can recess your mouth in the knowledge that you have just experienced the main registry period. It is this recession that allows you to gather loose pieces of crust and butter that may be located within the mouth. Simultaneously it is the time that the food begins to descend down the throat and into the stomach. Studies have shown that in this time the brain can actually loose direct communication with the body.

Lastly there is the aftertaste. Some say this is akin to the moments after a human orgasm. Its a peaceful moment where you are able to really relax and clean your mouth. Most of the work has been done and you can simply rest in contentment of a successful operation.

This process continues until the entire breadstick was eaten. No animals were harmed but he feels a bit sick.