The Frosty.

Mmmmm.


Still mmm.




Mmmm Mmmm.




Num nums.



This delicious treat you see before you is probably the only thing John McCain could do to get my vote this November. If he serves me a Frosty dressed like a P.O.W. or if I can eat a Frosty off of Sarah Palin's nude body at the polling booth, I will be voting for a Republican ticket this fall. Or if Bristol names her child Frosty and she lets me booze with her baby's daddy, Levi. If one of those three scenarios happens, I will gladly throw away the next four years of my life. Was this too offensive?

Anyways...I didn't mean to write any of that at all. I was going to use this blog as a tribute to a dear boy, Brandon. For he posts about 10-12 blogs a day and actually (somehow) matches the number of politcal blogs with useless ones. So for him comes my Frosty blog. What is that you ask? Speak up.

Oh.
Yes. You are asking at what temperature Dave Thomas decided to serve his delicious treats at.

The Frosty is served at a temperature between 19 and 21 degrees. And as Wendy's states, "it has be to served at the right temperature to keep it thick and maintain the right texture."

Dear Mr. Dave Thomas,

Bless you. You make my belly full and my waistline fuller.

Sincerely,
Steven

P.S. Your daughter is a smokin' fast food babe.

Hope you learned something. Gimme a kiss.