everything's better with chocolate, batter, duck fat, nougat, etc.

Recently I pondered with a friend the milestones of aging. Our lives run in cycles, we unclichély decided. Our innocent and beautiful first bikes or kisses, are replaced by the blindingly pathetic first purchase of all black or white generic sneakers, which we then refer to as tennis shoes, and wear on the commute because they are more comfy.

So in futile efforts to retain our youth we engage in self-deceiving throwings of caution to the winds of time.
No need to wait for midlife to meet these crises; just grab a variety of candy bars from the corner store, mix up a floury batter while polishing off that six-pack of happiness, dip the bars, and start deep-fat frying those suckers in the bubbling duck fat that you just used to cook sixteen pounds of french-fried potatoes.

Yes, it may look like a regurgitated beefaroni, but it tastes something like heaven. I recommend a melty plop of snickers with some medium-rare skor bar and charred potato bits on top.