There is no girl's table.

If there are no women, dirty rice is also a "vegetarian game".

Several old people were drinking together, talking from the heart, and when they were tired, they leaned back. The dullness and nothingness after drinking are written on the face, and bragging is unnecessary. A group of people talk about youth friendship, state affairs, the stock market, overthrown senior officials, and the reality of news broadcast reports ... The words are dry, not wet at all, and the sound has been heard for a long time, just like rubbing the bottom of the bowl repeatedly with an iron spoon.

With this girl, to be exact, with the flowers of this dinner, this dinner is complete. The men sitting around the dining table have their own ghosts, trying to figure out their tone, flattering and pleasing at will, and teasing just right. A smooth woman is just a leaky spoon, and the leaked sweet juice stirs up an affectionate night.

A few days ago, I invited a group of gourmets to get together in Beijing. These people come from all over the world, all middle-aged men, and everyone knows everything. No matter how good the food is, it is common practice for these people. So I secretly added a dish and called a girl named Lulu, a beauty who graduated from Chinese opera and came from Wuhan, Hubei. She is a stunner.

A thousand kinds of food are not as good as two kilograms of breasts, not to mention one is more than two kilograms. A pair of masters are dancing at the dining table. A girl can joke and keep up with her words. If someone talks to death, she can also find the moon in the sea, laugh at herself bravely, talk like water, drink and chat, and laugh just right. At the same time, she is not too skilled, and there are some immature and amateur manners, just like there seems to be meat that feels like no meat, just right, and it is the most difficult to rest.

That meal was like running water on the mountain, like turning around a tree three times, like pouring pearls, big and small, into a jade plate, like cream-colored crystals that warm and smooth her skin, like the spring night is short, the sun rises too fast, like pear blossoms pressing on Haitang.

There was a big boss in the investment circle that day, and the girl left. The big boss looked at the girl's swaying back affectionately. I asked the big boss: What do you think of this girl?

The boss suddenly felt lost and pondered for a long time, and slowly spit out two words between his lips and teeth: fuck.

This is a typical Chinese-style dinner party, where students are clean and ugly, interrupt, slap in the face, pimp and gather beautiful animals. There is no shortage of vases here, and of course there can't be vases everywhere. That would be a mess. She may not be beautiful, but she must be exquisite and know how to measure. Men always like virgins who are somewhat dissolute or reserved sluts.

A woman is sitting around us. She controls the direction of dinner, the amount and frequency of drinking. My usual dinners are full of flowers, all exquisite, good at drinking and articulate. When a group of people go out to eat, they can become home. We men are content to see our women out of the hall, sitting and laughing with strange men and making mistakes. It felt like an instructor watching their brave female soldiers.

They have amorous feelings, but they are not secular. They know this well, but they are not addicted. The more they do this, the more they can confuse others.

The owner here is Daxian, a Beijing writer, brewer, former sports journalist and poet. He has eight delicate sisters. I formed a WeChat group myself, and I was also involved. I said it's like your harem. Daxian later said thoughtfully, "It seems that it really means this."

Once in a craft beer bar, Daxian organized a sister bureau. Big sister, second sister, third sister, fourth sister, fifth sister, sixth sister, seventh sister and eighth sister get together, all of which are wonderful. They call each other sisters, drink and drink, and everyone comes to the net. Daxian sat next to him with a smile, a little "and the emperor, from then on, gave up his early hearing".

Different girls are like different dishes. Lulu is like Toro in the upper abdomen of bluefin tuna. She was born brave, bright and moving, and did not wear makeup, so that she became the mascot at our dinner table. We fought in the north and the south, the legendary swordsman. Later, she made boyfriends, and these drinking partners suddenly became a little depressed.

Daxian's elder sister lives in Belgium now. That's the soup in braised shark's fin. It has been polished for a long time and tastes authentic and sexy.

Some little girls mix salads, the ingredients are fresh, without the smell of fireworks, with a little sweetness, a little salt, a little soy sauce and vinegar, very refreshing, and a little mustard choking.

Some are beautiful young women who like dessert, like Tiramisu. Dessert is always a distracting part of a meal and a postscript to a book. It is redundant, beautiful and often dazzling.

I sat next to a group of brave girls, like a small fire of braised pork, burning the desire for beauty, suffering with the graceful fire, showing greasy luster.

One of my favorite dinners should be vegetarian soup, which never usurps the role of host, but is just right and gentle. Drinking too much, drinking a small bowl is comfort.

She is clever, and she doesn't rely on it;

She is coquettish, but only slightly exposed in the corner of her eyes and eyebrows;

She can be silent, but never noisy. A woman who speaks impenetrably is a nightmare.

She drinks, but she is not drunk. Drunk bitch is not sexy at all.

She may not be beautiful, but she can't be without wisdom. A beautiful vase is by no means a flower at a dinner party.

She needs to be frivolous, pink and sprinkle a handful of petals in the pixel soup.

If I had to rob something out of thin air, I would choose some stunners to attend my dinner. I'm going to take Madonna as my partner. Our sister Tina, who is always in the wind and rain, is over half a year old. I hope to pick her up one afternoon in the autumn when she turned 26, and invite her to our table at that moment.

Then I need a literary girl, preferably thin, to sit quietly and smoke and occasionally say something tired, such as Zhang Ailing in the Republic of China. I need to choose a period when she is 20 years old. She has never been in love with Qingcheng and has never seen Hu Lancheng. As soon as she left the girl, she came to our table to watch us eat, like a spectator.

I have always liked smart women, but I dare not profane them. A woman who can't handle it is a flower of social intercourse. Nowadays, the dinner table of young artists is full of royal sisters who know this way. They threw away their feathers and dressed themselves as swans. I sat next to them in a down jacket, afraid that they would eat my toad meat.

Give me another female quota. The man was handed over to Dong Xiaowan. A little Jiangnan, a little tender. This is really a brilliant cloud. She is also an excellent cook. When everyone has finished drinking, Dong Xiaowan will sneak into the kitchen and quietly serve refreshments and vegetarian soup.