BRULEE FRENCH TOASTS STUFFED WITH CREAMY CHESTNUTS
READ MORE Continue Reading(I KNOW HOW TO) LOOK FABULOUS IN SMUDGED MASCARA NOT SCHMALTZ, AND KNOWS THAT THIS GLITTERED PAPER-CONE WAS FOR MY HEAD, AND NOT POPCORNS…
READ MORE Continue Reading(I KNOW HOW TO) LOOK FABULOUS IN SMUDGED MASCARA NOT SCHMALTZ, AND KNOWS THAT THIS GLITTERED PAPER-CONE WAS FOR MY HEAD, AND NOT POPCORNS…
We’ve all heard about this growing up, that the adult life is all about responsibilities. “Pfff, whatever…” I said. I mean what does that even mean, really? As if kids don’t got no responsibility, like I hadn’t already been tying my own shoes, wearing my painful braises, and attending my designated school every morning where I dealt with mean kids on my own like any accountable, dutiful children since seven. Think I did all those for fun? I was doing good for my own greater good. Responsibility. You know? In fact, it seems that my whole life so far has been a reversed testimony for such statement.
As I am slowly coming to terms that my diligent, responsible life had took its last dying breath the moment… I became an adult.
Continue ReadingNaaah, don’t have to thank me for this. Glad to do it. Well… don’t hate me for it either. If you are finding this angelically beautiful but appallingly offensive all at the same time, I can’t help you. Just as the curtain of the swimsuit-season is about to go up in all its rudeness and the rim of jello hanging over your jeans is being increasingly disagreeable, I’m putting this on your HD retina-display screen. I’m bad. But again, gelatinous pork belly confit under a jacket of perforated crispy skin and a lace of amber-like caramelized sugar… Pass?… Nah, you’ll have to go to the beach fat.
Continue ReadingThe only equivalent comparison in life to this would be: In our last two years in New York when we were practically cast out of Manhattan by elitism (FINE, high rents) and moved to… Jersey City where there was a most pathetic looking, hicks-Ahoy karaoke bar right around the block. With more conviction than I withheld on my wedding day I said to Jason, “IF we EVER raised even the SLIGHTEST idea of walking into this place, it is THE moment that we’ve been “Jersified” and must pack up and move back in the city immediately!” We survived Jersey and never did walk into that karaoke bar. But instead THIS happened here. My cue that says I have been in YET another dump for far too long that – I – made – a – PIE!!!
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