Where the sauce stains on your shirt are the only thing that still brings you joy
Warning: contents may be triggering for those who have ever eaten a meal they later regret
Memories of Better Times Solutions for the Existentially UnhappyThe Theroar of Regret was born in a small kitchen, amidst the sizzling of onions and the tears of its creator. It was meant to be a masterpiece, but it ended up being a culinary abomination.
Its first bite was a symphony of flavors, a cacophony of textures, and a tragedy of presentation. It was the perfect representation of the human condition: imperfect, messy, and regrettable.
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