Musings: Proposing a food porn industrry

Phone sex? Yuck! Glamorous lies exploiting 'nad-addled men who can never disprove a word. Well, I'm not really proposing the establishment of a food sex industry, but I am proposing that restaurants start giving us what we want: A luscious-sounding hostess who will almost pornographically describe the menu offerings over the phone in a successful inducement to draw us in for a meal, a repast, a sumptuous banquet that we can touch, smell and taste is every bit as delectable as promised. Like the articulate gay waiter at our table, but female and sexier. Date partner is optional but risky.

Perhaps she should work in the privacy of her home or boudoir as she purringly plies the restaurant's wares: "I'll bet you'd like my duck l'orange with saffron pilaf on the side and a fruit cup of scooped melon balls, wouldn't you, big boy...? Ooh, I can tell you want it... And the grilled vegetables are drizzled with lemon butter and spices that will just make your tongue come alive..."

Food porn. Fantasies for real men.