my best girl and i went to a ghetto kegger last night.
the eminem-look-a-like was neat, but the shitfaced guy with the broken arm (that needed a belt) , he was fun. he just kept telling us that our discussion about pretzels was "beautiful." (we were really bored.)
everything about us was "beautiful", because we were "beautiful latin italian mamas".
that's a direct quote.
i am neither latin, nor italian.
i am portugese, if that counts.
the best part: the one and 1/2 armed drunk pregnant girl.
i swear i'm not making this up.
i was home before 1.
the eminem-look-a-like was neat, but the shitfaced guy with the broken arm (that needed a belt) , he was fun. he just kept telling us that our discussion about pretzels was "beautiful." (we were really bored.)
everything about us was "beautiful", because we were "beautiful latin italian mamas".
that's a direct quote.
i am neither latin, nor italian.
i am portugese, if that counts.
the best part: the one and 1/2 armed drunk pregnant girl.
i swear i'm not making this up.
i was home before 1.
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I mean sure, you can get them, but the salt is either
a) poorly distributed, so's you have these clumps on one side and de nada on the other half, or
b) the distribution is fine, but the salt crystals are so honking huge that you spend twenty minutes trying to let each bite dissolve in your mouth so's not to scratch the esophagus as the 36 karat salt rock slides down to the gulliver.
Pretzels...can't some things just be perfect?