A post and a pocket knife. Thank you for spelling my name right. My hand smells like beef arm, my souls are worn through and my train is now arriving. I miss my bike and where we use to go. I’m so thrilled about grass fed. How did I luck into this whole side of cow?
Oh, side note… Try to avoid 70 year old chocolate bars from the bodega under the stairs, found in the 8th ave subway station.
But by all means continue on the trend of mast brothers salted dark chocolate bars.
Find on Amazon.com