There is a specific kind of madness that takes over my brain when “all-you-can-eat” and “crab” are mentioned in the same sentence. It starts with a frantic search for the sturdiest cracker and ends with me sitting in a beautiful, butter-induced coma.
Lately, I’ve spent way too much time dreaming of that sweet, succulent meat hidden inside those stubborn shells, and frankly, I’m tired of playing hard to get.
I want it all. I want the steam hitting my face and the endless refills that make my heart skip a beat. If you think the desert is just cactus and sand, you’re missing the salty treasure chest waiting for you…