a dirty martini and some cinnamon biscuits

i don't know about you, but pretty much the definition of a happy saturday morning for me is being allowed to sleep past 8am, followed quickly by a cup of dark, oily, strong black coffee and some sort of breaded vehicle for delivering cinnamon, sugar and butter into my mouth.


sorel boots. kale soup.

i got a pair of sorel boots in the mail today. i feel like this has thrust me into an entirely different category of 'minnesotan'.

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