It is a universal truth that, in every order of curly fries, there will inevitably be The One Perfect Curly-Cue Fry. The one which, amidst all the mish-mash of curvy shapes and tangled pieces, will be the most pristine tightly-spun corkscrew. Now, there are two kinds of people in this world: 1) Those who will see The One Perfect Curly-Cue Fry and gobble it up without a second thought, and 2) Those who will always save The One Perfect Curly-Cue Fry for the very end until all the other inferior curly fries are gone and you can behold The One Perfect Curly-Cue Fry in all its glory and savor its consumption as it so deserves.
I have always been the latter. For as long as I can remember. When I see The One Perfect Curly-Cue Fry, a little part inside of me leaps for joy and then hurries to cram all the imperfect curly fries down my throat so that I can eat The One Perfect Curly-Cue Fry. Because it always has to be saved for the end. It Must Be Saved For The End.
Anyone else feel this way about curly fries?
Long story short: It's 10:30 at night, I've just gotten home and taken off my shoes, and am currently eating my first meal of the day courtesy of Arby's. Perhaps I've grown insane from hunger. That is my official excuse for writing this post. And now that I've obligatory post for the day and, in the process, exposed yet another slightly disturbing side of my psyche (psychosis?), I can finish working on finishing up the rest of these inferior fries so I can get to...well, you know what.
I have always been the latter. For as long as I can remember. When I see The One Perfect Curly-Cue Fry, a little part inside of me leaps for joy and then hurries to cram all the imperfect curly fries down my throat so that I can eat The One Perfect Curly-Cue Fry. Because it always has to be saved for the end. It Must Be Saved For The End.
Anyone else feel this way about curly fries?
Long story short: It's 10:30 at night, I've just gotten home and taken off my shoes, and am currently eating my first meal of the day courtesy of Arby's. Perhaps I've grown insane from hunger. That is my official excuse for writing this post. And now that I've obligatory post for the day and, in the process, exposed yet another slightly disturbing side of my psyche (psychosis?), I can finish working on finishing up the rest of these inferior fries so I can get to...well, you know what.
It Must Be Saved For The End.
I go for the perfect curly first. Not because of any lack of patience, but to enjoy the most possible "cheese" sauce on the curly seasoned delight. Saving the massive curly until the end might mean a severe lack of “cheese” and the “cheese” is the delightful icing to an already great potato dream.
ReplyDeleteyay for arby's.. you forgot to mention though that the said curly fries must be accompanied by mounds and mounds of horsey sauce!
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