Sometimes when you wake up an hour before company is supposed to show up, and you try to shoot gastro-footage on not much sleep and very much alcohol, you forget to actually talk about the ingredients, the amounts, and the process.
Get your nose off my keyboard and whip up a thicknasty cognac egg drink the whole crew will love. A recipe from deep within the bowels of my brain (which has been laser-etched with Drake and Weeknd lyrics since 2011), this eggnog and brandy drink is a result of chiefing on a fatty cassia late at night under star projectors.
In the olden days, when you would say, “I really like the idea of dragons fucking tailpipes“, everyone would tell you to stop being weird, and you’d continue your entire existence as a productive member of society. Nowadays, if you wax the same pipedream, you’ll find a subreddit specifically for your weird fetish
Since high school I’ve owned a book called “The Mission” that the internet says never existed. It had little challenges to try every day, from “drink a glass of water while peeing” to “apply for a job as a neurosurgeon.” I’ve tried both, but the latter is more important and requires less paper towels.