It’s oyster season!

Last Friday, the Southerner decided to prove that he is Master of EVERYTHING (M.o.E) and charbroil some oysters.  After looking up Drago’s famous recipe and purchasing 3 dozen oysters  on the half shell, we headed over to a friend’s house to celebrate she and her partner’s one year anniversary and make good use of their grill.  I know if I try to tell you at this point that the oysters were some of the best I’ve ever tasted you’re going to be slightly suspicious because I’m all in love with the chef and everything, but food is one area where I don’t mince words. Ha ha!!! Get it? I said mince.  Like I was saying, my boyfriend is so sexy and makes the most incredible charbroiled oysters that I’ve ever experienced the privilege of letting joyously glide down my gastrointestinal tubing.

Unfortunately, we ate them so fast it was impossible to get a decent picture.  The Southerner’s one piece of advice is not to cook them too long so that they retain more of their juices off the grill.  Translation: more juice to soak that French bread in.

I also finally realized that I do, in fact, have an issue with sticking my tongue out in photos.  My brother and his girlfriend kindly tried to point this out to me in Atlanta a couple of weeks ago, while I kindly responded by sticking my tongue out at them and telling them to suck it.

But, alas, they were definitely on to something.

Me, tequila, and 3 dozen oysters later. Also, why am I dressed like it's the 4th of July?

Ok, I have to go now.  The M.o.E is teaching me how to gesso a canvas, while simultaneously wrapping Christmas presents and tutoring me in geometry. I’m secretly contemplating locking him in a closet and hiding him there forever.

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