Our house smells like falafel. (Read: Indian food in a diaper) I ask Shitty Roommate what he's cooking. He tells me "chicken and eggplant parm".
... Now I'm sorry but I was born and raised in an Italian household. I know what chicken and eggplant parm smells like. And I know that it sure as hell smells nothing like falafel. Also, I was shown a pile of pancetta then told "I'm also putting prosciutto in it". I'm not entirely sure how to deal with these things in my brain.
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