Salty Potatoes

I'm pregnant, and I want some effin' potatoes. I want my potatoes, and I want at least half of cup of salt on them. I do not care how the potatoes are prepared, I just want potatoes and I want them covered in salt. I also want them now.

I want french fries. I want chips. I want hash browns, pan-fried potatoes and potato pancakes. I want mashed potatoes. I want baked potatoes. I just want some sort of potato dish and I want it covered in salt.

You know what's awesome? Baked potatoes. Baked potatoes are effin' sweet. Especially when you put a couple tablespoons of butter on them, and then cover them in salt, pepper and sour cream... and then you mash it all up until it doesn't even look like a potato anymore. So good. So, so, so good. I want one right now, but I'd have to drive across town to the nearest Wendy's and that's expensive. Besides, Wendy's baked potatoes are not much good, for a really good baked potato you have to go a steakhouse. Except when you go to the steakhouse they want you to buy a steak before they give you the baked potato. I don't want the steak; I just want the potato.

Salty potatoes. I want them. Now.