Jimmy Choo, Chimmichurri, Jimmy Jimmy, Choo- Choo.
If you've read this post's title properly, I may not even need to post. But I will for those who need further spatatention. You know who you are. If you dont get the rhythm, think Adam Ant.
That's it. That's all. That's enough. Let's get silly.
Jimmy Choo, a shoe and more. A guardian angel that took

Chimmichurri is a wonderful condiment. It gives a steak firmament. It's origins argentinine, it's flavor sublime, and red pepper seasons it's temperment.

Chimmichurri:
Finely chop one white onion.
Mash and mince 3 cloves garlic.
Toss in bowl with one good handful chopped curly parsley.
Add one tablespoon fresh oregano (or 1tsp dry, philistines)
Add one tablespoon red wine vinegar.
Toss all ingredients with 1/2 cup olive oil.
And remember, like a crying three year old, it improves if you let it sit alone, slightly covered in the dark. Use as a marinade, a dip, or a condiment. The chimmichurri I mean, not the three year old.
Jimmy Jimmy was a silly song on Madonna's True Blue album. A quintessential B-side, it never made the club scene. Back when there were albums.

Back in CT there was the original Wal-Mart, called Railroad Salvage. It was a fleamarket disguised as a department store where you could get something lanced, mounted, resized, in bulk or even on rye. They did it all. It was the place to find something cheap. Ruby Vine was the man that operated Railroad Salvage and he used to wear a cheap toupee. He sported a pocketprotector and curvaceous wife named Choo- Choo. They were a Jim and Tammy Fae of retail not religion. Choo-Choo!
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