I'm loving these pink oranges. The bacon was crist...eggs perfect, and the sour dough toast was all buttery.
The chicken of depression is now pecking corn in the back yard.
Breakfast
It was epic.
I'm loving these pink oranges. The bacon was crist...eggs perfect, and the sour dough toast was all buttery.
The chicken of depression is now pecking corn in the back yard.
I'm loving these pink oranges. The bacon was crist...eggs perfect, and the sour dough toast was all buttery.
The chicken of depression is now pecking corn in the back yard.
Saturday, February 23, 2013
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2 comments:
It's like the taste of poetry.
What Ken said.
Although I hesitate to quote him.
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