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When I ask for a pumpkin smoothie, I do not want five cubes of ice, a bit of anemic skim milk, a pinch of cinnamon, and a quarter-teaspoon of pumpkin. I love pumpkin. Let me say that again, in a way that might make you understand how much I love pumpkin:

I <3 PUMPKIN!!1!ELEVENTY-ONE!!

Therefore, when I ask for something that's flavored with pumpkin, I do not want it to taste like ground-up ice cubes floating in warm gruel. I expect to be hit with the slutticiously spectacular flavor of pumpkin, and I expect it to feel EXACTLY LIKE THIS.

SMACK!


Get it? Got it? Good. Now hand me some napkins and let's do this again.

Tags:

Marine Autumn

I owe you marine autumn
With dankness at its roots
and fog like a grape
and the graceful sun of the country;
and the silent space
in which sorrows lose themselves
and only the bright crown
of joy comes to the surface.

--Pablo Neruda.


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