crinkle

Good evening Fine Reader. I don’t know where to begin. It’s been seven days since my last confession. Today, this day of atonement. Means little more than a full day with the kids to an atheistic Hebrew school dropout like me. Rabble rouser. Inappropriate joker. TMI connoisseur.

Allow me to present exhibit one: sweet fig and goat cheese frozen custard with crinkle-cut French fries for dippin’. Courtesy of Shake Shack, my new favorite obsession, thanks to my dear friend Danielle.

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