One week from today we will (hopefully) know who the next President of the United States will be.
It doesn’t matter who wins. (It really does matter. It does! Holy crap. Yes.)
Everything is going to be okay. (I hope everything will be okay. Dear God, please make everything be okay.)
Here. Wait. As long as I know that this place exists, everything will be okay.
It combines two of my favorite things and I’ve never been there and I have no idea how it works. Question: Because I focus on veggie sushi, would I have to eat a bunch of rice and asparagus wrapped in a seaweed tortilla? (I don’t want to know the answer to that question. Everything is going to be okay.)
As long as the Half Crocked Chef keeps serving up honey flights, everything will be okay.
I went to Springfield last weekend to visit my sister. She took me to Half Crocked Chef, and I fell in LOVE. I now have a jar of their raw honey with fresh bee pollen and a jar of Hawaiian Hot Honey, which is raw honey infused with Hawaiian hot peppers, li hing mui, Hawaiian sea salt, and pineapple. I hate that my life is halfway over and I’m just now eating Half Crocked Chef honey. BUT, everything will be okay.
As long as Violence, Tobacco, and Inhalants can still chill with Cocaine, LSD, and Marijuana to the tune of Total Eclipse of the Heart on a stage in an elementary school gymnasium, everything will be okay.
“I don’t know what to do and I’m always in the dark! We’re living in a powder keg and giving off sparks!”
But it’s going to be okay. Hopefully.