2003-08-20
2003-08-20 - 10:11 p.m.
Sweet mother, I am tired. Last night a gang of us headed over to the cheesiest chainiest restaurant of all time, Joe's Crab Shack. It's been years since I was in a chain, and now I remember vividly why. This place is a dump covered in tie-dye and neon. It was stuffed to the gills with folks heading over to the Rivercats game and a bunch of drunk frat boys with itty-bitty skanky girlfriends. We waited an hour and a half to get a table, then were served some very unfortunate seafood and sad veggies. The poor servers have to line-dance every half hour like bridesmaids at a tacky wedding. But there is a redeeming factor.
The drinks are enormous. My Long Island iced teas - which they call "Titanic Teas" in a har-dee-har-har attempt at thematic humor - were served in schooner glasses. I *think* I had four. That's what happens when you're not paying for the drinks. Ya lose count. Imagine it: you're drunk in the tackiest restaurant on earth, sozzled on brand-name booze, laughing your ass off with old friends. In short, it was a very fun Tuesday.
To make up for yesterday's moral failings ;-), I rode 20 miles today after work. Lots of deer on the trail tonight - and one very unhappy rattlesnake, whose tail I flattened inadvertently. It was almost fully dark the last few miles, and though I have a headlight, it doesn't really illuminate much. I felt the bump, heard the rattle and turned around to see what had happened. That snake was pissed. Feeling contrite, I fled. No point in getting bit trying to make sure the critter was ok. There go all my good karma points!
It's decided: I'm setting up a second blog over at Typepad. It won't be ready for a while; I'm still in the plot-and-plan stage. One of the tings (holy crap, I'm Jamaican now - either that or too tired to fix errors) to think about is what kind of tone I'm after. There's really no point in another random food blog; there's also no value in another snotty foodie column. I'm after something different; irreverent but with useful content - planned silliness, if you will. And of course, a spot to confess all those guilty food pleasures. Do you know, I still *love* Taco Bell tacos? They violate all of my hoity-toity principles *and* give me an upset tummy, but every once in a while I must have them.
In fact, I wish for one right now. Hold on, let me close my eyes and wiggle my toes, click my heels together...
Damnit!
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