Ah, the South Beach Food and Wine Festival ... the buzz, the booze, the stars, the food! It's enough to make folks spend three days of total debauchery of the palate, like spring breakers on a gastronomic orgy. And event passes are worth about the same as college tuition, too.
Those much coveted tickets are swooped up so quickly by the affluent that mere mortals such as journalists and (gasp!) bloggers are left standing outside the pearly gates of foodie heaven. I had no intention of going, but it pays to have friends in low places who can bat some eyelash and pull some serious pork. As a result, I have gained entry to the inner sanctum of exclusivity, and all this without having to suck on Anthony Bourdain's coq au vin.
Gosh, I feel almost human.
So in the next couple of days, I'll probably be the only rogue blogger reporting from the lofty heights of Ocean Drive, eating and drinking more calories than any human should legally consume in a span of 24 hours.
But in the meantime, here's some breaking news: thousands of vegetarians are running for their lives from South Beach, as beef fumes from the Burger Bash choke their delicate lungs!
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