The number of pimples on my face at the moment tallies the number of bombs that’ve been dropped on me over the past half year, hence my prolonged absence – nah, I kid: I just chose to focus on my studies over the past semester. #closetgeekjo 😛
The pimples are real, though.
Oh, and the bombs too.
Well, if you count MEGA-SUPER-BOMBILICIOUS-OMG-FAT-DIE-ME-SOON-TO-BE-FAT-DIE-YOU-TOO POTATO BOMBS a kind of bomb – the good kind. I don’t know about you but, potatoes. I mean, POTATOES. And bacon (cues bacon-crazy brother). And c h e e s e. Thick, gooey locks of yellow melted fat (I love anti-climaxes) that legend has could only have sprouted from the head of Goldilocks.
You don’t know how much joy my brother brings me – he eats, I cook. I get to experiment, he gets all the fat (without growing fat; I think he must have slurped up all the metabolism genes before I got to occupy my mother’s womb).
There was a period of time when potato bombs were all the craze over the Internet, and he came up to me with a recipe of it one day. By then, I’d been bombed (ha, punny) with a mountain of school work to experiment with anything.
Fast forward two months later: dutiful, sensitive, caring, loving sister decides to attempt it for her gor’s birthday.
Let’s just say it was DA BOMB.
Click for Recipe!