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My mom and I just got back from a huge dinner of jerked pork and chorizo nachos at Tucson's J-Bar (one of my favorite, truly lovely restaurants in town). However, I feel like a pig at the moment, and actually I am literally internalizing one as well.
We are what we eat? Uh oh... next thing you know, I'm going to be this woman at my next big party event:
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The human bottle opener...
1 comment:
Is she really opening the bottle or just storing it for later consumption?
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