Thighs Wide Shut Thighs Wide Shut

Thursday, February 15

Love, American Cheese Style

Mumsy & Papa Thigh Master have given me a great many gifts through nature and nurture, but an unyielding love for those greasy, barely digestible sliders that comes in a tiny box could be the greatestest of them all. Yes, I'm talkin about White Castle, which many of you probably had never heard of before Karold and Humar went there, and if you were in the know you are either a hater or a lover, for there's no middleground when it comes to the WC. M & P grew up in the Midwest, which apparently is the stronghold of amazin American junk food (see Steak 'n Shake for more indigestion), so they were practically raised on the lil hamburgers, in additional to Li'l Abner. Although they raised their family in a kingdom/metropolitan area with no WC franchise in sight, they always made it a point to eat at one whenever our paths crossed with one. It is that lasting legacy that brought me and the Thighmistress (poor girl) to the mos yumcredible Valentine's Day event of our generation: a reservation-required candle-lit romantic dinner at White Castle, complete with waiter service$

$don't fret folks! Your beloveded Thigh Master isn't a giant cold hearted snake (regardless, don't look into my eyes). WC was merely our L'antipasto before I escorted madame onto our final Valentine dinner destination, the much fancier Popeyes