Tuesday, February 28, 2006

It was winter. They were cold.

It is the way of my people to celebrate this day by making fastnachts. That's right. My DNA has been shaped by those who shunned parade floats and flashing in favor of tossing pastry dough into a pot of boiling fat. Well, don't knock it until you've lined your arteries with it.

And happy repenting.

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