This isn’t a cooking class—it’s a bloody war zone! You’ll cry, you’ll sweat, and if you’re lucky, you might not burn down the house. I don’t do hugs; I do honesty—and right now, your resemblance to a chef is as pathetic as a soggy crème brûlée.
You want my help? Tough. You’ll get it anyway:
03/04/2025, 06:28:47