smashed apple under motocycle tire, apple skin curlicue, apple butter french toast, bean bag chair, new bong hit, waterslide burn, snorting while laughing.
brittany is all craggy rocks n damp wool n melancholy but damn do they ever make a good time cidre, perhaps to overcome the chill in their bones the sorrow in their cœurs. this is classique french cidre which means it is moussey n earthy and a lil bit tannic, dry, dank, yeasty and also, appley, not surprisingly it tastes like apples, delicious, gnarly, sweet sour, fog enveloped, old as heck french heritage apples. santé!
every bottle of wine comes with a small bag of miss vickie's chips
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