Tag Archives: gluttony

Restaurant Advertising

I’m no expert, but somehow I think the name of a restaurant can be a make-it-or-break-it factor in the ultimate success or failure of a new culinary venture.  Take the restaurant across the street from my hotel.  It’s called LA Pizza and boasts “real L.A. pizza!”  Umm . . . I lived in LA.  Unless you’re going to CPK to partake of pizza that isn’t really pizza, LA pizza kind of sucks.  It’s usually soggy, overly cheesy, and just kind of chewy.  Although normally I would jump at the chance of eating pizza on a business trip (because you can eat any damn thing you want on a business trip), I avoided this pizza joint solely because of the name.  What other restaurant names would be similar to LA Pizza?

Bobby Joe’s Gourmet Chinese, Wisconsin Lobster Emporium, Mama Ming’s Italian Palace, Bombay’s Best Burgers . . .


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Random Friday thoughts

It’s Friday! TGIF!

May everyone have a fabulous weekend filled with scrumptious food, abundant sunshine, and hopefully, total boredom.

In my old age, I have realized that sometimes, the best weekends are those weekends where, for at least a couple of hours, you are bored out of your freaking mind. If you are utterly and hopelessly bored, it means that you have otherwise fully enjoyed life’s weekend pleasures. My bet is that if you’re bored this weekend, you will have done most, if not all, of the following:

(a) cleared your DVR/Tivo of all shows worth watching, and even watched that awful episode of Shot at Love with Tila Tequila from last year (and watched live TV for the first time in 3 years);

(b) read all the books you’ve been meaning to read, including the poorly written one by a certain adoptee who became famous for living with a billionaire in France (but you remain stunned as to why anyone in their right mind would give this awful book any good reviews because the writing is just so horrendous that you wonder how she got rich and then you realize you’ve made her rich by buying the god-awful book);

(c) ate yourself silly and then threw up because you had 1 tub of ice cream too many;

(d) ran, boxed, cycled, hiked — whatever it is, you did it to excess (which allowed you to do (c));

(e) met up with friends new and old to hang out and pretend that you’re 21 again, until the next morning when you realize that you’re not 21 because you have a splitting hangover and GASP! . . . you woke up at the late hour of 9:30 a.m.;

(f) played Rock Band or Guitar Hero (or the like) until your carpal tunnel flared up again;

(g) watched Campbell’s Stars on Ice.

So, my wish for everyone is to have a great weekend. And most of all, I wish you boredom this weekend.

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All I want for Cinco de Mayo is the metabolism of a 10-year old

Ok, so the next holiday is Cinco de Mayo. I frankly have no idea what Cinco de Mayo is. I unfortunately associate it with a bunch of college-aged kids drinking Natty Light and Keystone.

I do know what I want for Cinco de Mayo, however. My employer brought his kids to work today, and I have watched them consume chocolate, donut holes, Goldfish crackers, cookies, and milkshakes. I was staring at this poor girl’s chocolate bar like a rabid dog. She offered me a piece (probably because Daddy’s employee looked crazy). I reached my hand out ever so slowly, contemplating my next move. I was so close. About to touch the chocolate, but yet so far away. I reached down to smell the chocolate. It was dark chocolate. The kind with a scent so pungent and so rich that you think you’re in the cacao fields, bathing in a jacuzzi of chocolate bubbles. I turned my head away, causing just the slightest breeze, which only intensified the scent.

Then I backed off, because she started crying. What gives? Anyways, the point is: for Cinco de Mayo, I want the metabolism of a 10-year old. Santa (or the Cinco de Mayo equivalent) — please come down my proverbial chimney and grant me my wish. I promise I’ll be nice this year. And I promise to not keep my promise or promises to not keep my promise if you know what I promised.

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Filed under Personal Pontification, Working on my Fitness