I’m 90 percent sure I ate my weight in foods this weekend. But it was my birthday weekend, so that cool right? Whatever, fatty.
Okay here goes.
Started the weekend off with Coa. Good restaurant with a really crappy setting. By that I mean it’s in the suburbs, connect to a mall. But at least it’s not some chain joint. I mean, really if I wanted chain eats I’m sure there were seven Olive Gardens and 13 Chili’s within a five-miles radius. It is the suburbs after all.
I had the pastor it was good. Pork Count: 1
Friday birthday dinner, fattened up at the Pasta Tree. Having never been there, I was delightfully impressed. Our waiter was killing it all night. Solid dude, I never got his name but he seemed legit. I ate up some antipasto action and followed it with a carbonara with the godzilla-est pieces of bacon in the sauce. Deathgrip on that shit. YOU CANNOT STOP!
Even more amazing that the food was the couple the came out of the alley and sat at the end table on the patio. And they sat side by side, looking out over everyone who was eating. And this was not a romantic side by side, more like Rhianna and Jay-Z running that town, but on a smaller scale. The lady had a dog with her and looked like her name might have been Super-Ital. Meanwhile over my shoulder was some yellow girl. DJ tan-errific. Pork count: 2
Saturday I headed out to Maxie’s Southern Comfort. Landed with a gimlet made of Hendrick’s Gin and muddled Cucumber. I think I might be drinking these the rest of the summer. I don’t even know why I order food in this place. I could simply live off the cornbread. But no, I ordered what turned out to be 15 pounds of pulled pork. So good. the right amount of heat and accompanied by some killer baked beans. I think I took 9 pounds of food home from that joint. Pork count: 3
After dinner I caught up with Keef Love and took his money playing cee-lo like a proper gentleman. Then gave a lot of it up to some other dude named Joey. Washed it all down with Moscow Mules. I took a picture of my cash, but lost it in the stupid-ass blackberry update. Now my phone doesn’t recognize my memory card, so all my hard work of sexting with delivery driver from #1 Chinese Food is for not.
Sunday I ate left-overs that pushed my pork count to about 25 and watched Inglorious Basterds which kind of made me feel guilty about all the pork.
Then I woke up on Today and saw this drift through the twitter trough:
So I’m pretty sure that means snowboarding is just getting-the-fuck-out-of-hand. Time to hang it boys, time to hang it up.