No, you are not dreaming. Indeed, your dreams have just come true--I am updating this blog.

Yes, it was selfish of me to stop posting up all the disgusting things that I weaken my immune system with. I accept all responsibility for any mental breakdowns that my absence has caused to most of the earth's population. It was not my intention to cause mass devastation, but my cat, Angus has been chewing on my laptop charger and it has compromised its charging abilities. Don't worry, I am devising a plan of punishment that will make both Angus and PETA fatally shit themselves.

Allow me to molest your senses with the latest and greatest in culinary delights. First and foremost, I want to announce that once again, I've fallen in love at 711. As you all know, I have not been the same since they discontinued the Cheesy Spinach Dip Taquito in the Fall of 2004. I guess 711 took my desperate cries into consideration when they decided to open up a 711 three blocks away from me and stock them with JAMAICAN BEEF PATTIES.

I asked the kind fellow who was managing the hot dog roller if the yellow things were empanadas, but to my shock he said they were Jamaican beef patties. I instantly slammed my fists on the counter and screamed at the top of my lungs, "I'LL TAKE TWELVE!!" I then made him throw them directly into my mouth with his tongs and then ran out without paying a dime. After all, 711 owes me somewhere around 6 figures in damages for the heartbreak they caused me when they discontinued my beloved Cheesy Spinach Dip Taquitos. Don't ever break a fat girls heart. 

This is not news, but it would be wrong to not acknowledge the birth of this decades fast food Messiah. I did not think that the genius stoners at Taco Bell could outdo the Beefy Crunch burrito, but it was dumb of me to underestimate the level of their genius. I tell you, these guys could do nothing but fart on an IQ test and still score higher than Stephen Hawking.

THE DORITOS LOCOS TACO! I have to admit that my friend and I drove up and down highway 5 searching for the test locations in California's methiest towns for these. Unfortunately, we never found them but the wait only made the experience more meaningful and passionate.

Spicy tuna, yellowtail, salmon, and scallop hand rolls from Hama Sushi in Little Tokyo. I don't give a shit if I've already written about this place because I cannot stress enough how delightful these hand rolls are. Jesus and Godzilla live underneath the sushi bar and roll these themselves using psychokinesis.

Watching illegal amounts of the Food Network and the Cooking Channel has lead me to develop a cooking addiction and personality disorder in which I've confused myself into believing I am a cross between Michael Symon and every contestant in the history of Chopped. So I've been (successfully) trying to grow a soul patch and have been banned from every Sur La Table location in Southern California for dry humping Le Creuset cookware sets.

I made meatballs and had an Italian versus Swedish throwdown against myself. Whole Foods ran out of ground veal because they are a bunch of amateurs, so I had to settle for ground beef and ground pork. Threw in some bacon and I was back in business. Sweden swept Italy by a landslide because of my genius use of Strauss heavy cream and lingonberries trumped my decision to use marinara in a jar. I love to hand myself victories.

Buying a roasting thermometer has definitely been the most adult purchase that I have made thus far. It resulted in me making this glorious rib roast. Making a beautiful roast for ones self is the most fulfilling feeling ego and stomach had never experienced such nirvana.


Do yourself a favor and go to Din Tai Fung in Arcadia or Santa Anita or wherever the fuck this place is. XIAO LONG BAO. ALL DAY. ERRYDAY. I ate this two days in a row this week because I mistakenly thought both days were my birthday. My birthday is in November.

I went to Coachella again last week and these are the only two acceptable photos for public viewing. If you were there, you may have recognized me as the inebriated Samoan of questionable gender in jorts, sprinting from tent to tent with fists full of glowsticks and churros. All great weekends start with sippy cups full of Ciroc Obamas.

I will leave you with this wonderful photo to ponder.


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Anonymous said…
It's been a year... we miss you!

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