and i think i may have had crepes the perfect amount of times, with the perfect amount of spacing, that it remains as magical every single time. even once, after a wretched break up, i had a nice warm coffee with a wondrous strawberry nutella crepe. that crepe cured my mind the same way other crepes have cured my hangovers.
i probably eat crepes as often as i eat magical mushrooms-- which is often for mushrooms and somewhat rarely for crepes-- but with both items, i forget exactly what they're like till i'm deeply involved in the experience.
my favorite part of crepes is that they always ask you, "would you like whip cream on the side, or ice cream?"
whip cream or ice cream?
questions like that ought to be illegal they're so fantastic.
that's like asking, "do you want something awesome, or would you like a different form of awesome today?"
ice cream, please.
i'm sorry, ricky bobby, i'm sorry. while the right 'merican apple pie can feel like a very necessary hug from a long-lost friend, a crepe isn't about comfort: it's about bliss. in fact, the only reason i am not currently eating a crepe is because i've had one recently and don't want to ruin the magic.
that and i just had dinner and there is too much salmon in my stomach for even a thin french pancake.
but i'm tempted to try anyway now that it's on topic.
and that is what i say about crepes.
the end.
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