They don’t call it HOTlanta for nothing. The South is sizzling and my pressed hair and wardrobe show it. On days like these I need my frozen savior, my knight in a paper cup. I need my Pinkberry. Maybe it’s the fat kid lurking inside me. Maybe it’s just that damn good. Either way I’m addicted to the frosty concoction and I have no way to curve my cravings.
I’m a fanatic of MTV’s The Hills, so when I traveled to LA I based my itinerary around spots I saw Lauren, Lo, and Audrina frequent. I walked into the pink and green shop a little nervous. I wasn’t big on yogurt. Southerners love their ice cream and I felt like quite the traitor. Somehow I managed to put down the peach cobbler and pick up that plastic spoon. My first mouthful of yogurt / pomegranate / strawberries was foodgasmic. Forget the party in people’s pants. I had a party in my mouth!
Ever since then I’ve become the Billy Mays of Pinkberry. I recommend the place to my friends, their friends, and their friend’s friends to Pinkberry whenever I hear someone mention the Los Angeles area. Ladies, please do yourself a favor and indulge in this tasty treat. Its healthy, affordable, and mighty effing delicious!
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