Happy In Bag

Saturday, February 12, 2011

The F-Word

Family members use it. Restaurant critics abuse it. Even my favorite basketball coach utters it during interviews. I involuntarily grit my teeth and clench my fists every time I encounter the f-word. I'm driven half mad, consequently, that the word is part of the name of Foo's F-Word Frozen Custard, the default daytime meeting spot in my neighborhood. The affronts don't end there- the establishment claims its lunches are "yummylicious."


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