Natalie Brannon’s recipe for “Honeymoon on the Rocks.”
Take one husband, usually aboard ship somewhere. Add one minuscule apartment with a "sea view" that is only visible from atop the kitchen counter, but which comes fully equipped with large, flying cockroaches; two scantily clad neighbors who entertain male friends at the most astonishing times of night; three of your husband’s Coast Guard buddies who are wagering whether a fourth can sleep with a woman from each of the fifty states. Mix in the heat of a so-called tropical paradise. Add newlywed nerves and a large pinch of passion. Put in the oven, and hope for a marriage that lasts.
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