While meditating on milk names (see entry below), I began recounting another list that came up way way back. I was a crisis line counselor, answering crazed Los Angelenos calls for help, usually the midnight to 6 am shift until I learned that the love of my life was doing the Saturday afternoon shift. No, I didn't stalk him, but he was my mentor and suggested we do the shift together; he was easy on the eyes, and had the sexiest voice.
One Christmas, the hotline threw a party for the volunteers and one of the new recruits said to my mentor "I think you're so sexy, I want to have raw sex with you." No, she wasn't drunk. Since Mentor and I were mentally in sync he turned to me and said "Raw?" whereupon (being a sarcastic bitch) I responded with a nod and said "Not braised, baked, toasted, or sauteed." We proceeded to laugh in front of her.