Firstly, the word “twelfth” is so fuckin’ weird.
Secondly, so is the word “firstly”
Finally, I want to take this opportunity to talk about something that is really important to me. Something that I hold near and dear to my heart. Something that I can’t remain silent about anymore.
French fries, guys.
In comedies you’ll see someone trying to lose weight order a salad, and then tag on “could I also get a side of fries?” Well, I am that person in real life. Not really though because I would never order a salad.
If I could eat fries with every meal, I would not hesitate. If I knew that there would be no long-term effects of constantly shoveling in the potatoes, I’d sign up immediately, and I’d sign up twice.
Fries are the most important side of any dinner, lunch, or shower. A meal without fries for me is a glass of orange juice with extra pulp–disappointing, and not something that anyone should ever want.
SIDENOTE: If you’re really interested in pulp, you can unfollow me now because you’re disgusting.
SIDE-SIDENOTE: I’m only kidding. Please continue to follow me. I realize how weird it would be if I was just sending these posts out to the internet with no intention of having anybody read them.
I wish I could remember what it was like to try a french fry for the first time. I’ll bet it was a magical experience unlike anything I’ll ever experience again in my lifetime. It was probably a greater moment than how I’ll feel on my wedding day.
If you ever see me at a bar, or at a restaurant, and you think “Hey, this guy has had a blog post that I liked once. He seems like a good guy. I’m gonna buy him a drink.” Don’t.
Buy me an order of fries.