I've had this Winter Sweater Cookie for a few months now. It's pressed between two sheets of Waxed Paper in a large manilla envelope. Every so often I take it out and force people to look at it, then write down how it made them feel. I think the green icing tastes like mint not like a frog or a traffic light. I don't know for sure. I don't know the snow man's name, but I never asked. Also, I lied: I've actually had this cookie for a few years now. I can't get to sleep without knowing where it is. I would never eat it in front of anyone. Just like Veal.

I’ve had this Winter Sweater Cookie for a few months now. It’s pressed between two sheets of Waxed Paper in a large manilla envelope. Every so often I take it out and force people to look at it, then write down how it made them feel.

I think the green icing tastes like mint not like a frog or a traffic light. I don’t know for sure. I don’t know the snow man’s name, but I never asked.

Also, I lied: I’ve actually had this cookie for a few years now. I can’t get to sleep without knowing where it is. I would never eat it in front of anyone. Just like Veal.

Chris Weagel

Chris Weagel writes about the intersection of technology and parenting for Wired Magazine. No he doesn't. He can't stand that shit.

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