Here's what I had for dinner
When things get too hectic, one's nutrition often times suffers. Here's what I had for dinner:
--At around 7:45 I had the last slice of the half-of-a-blueberry-pie Chuck and Wyn gave me.
--Around 8:15 I had a sour pickle that I bought from Dr. Pickle (Sundays at the 5th Ave. farmer's market. You should taste his pickled mushrooms). Dr. Pickle, it should be noted, has also been hitting on my roommate. So when I was there last Sunday I gave a moment's thought to just grabbing him by the scruff of the neck, dragging him across the counter and kicking his ass. Cooler heads prevailed, obviously. Plus you start thrashing around on the sidewalk with a guy like that and you smell like pickles for a week.
--Around 9 I had one and a half cucumber (which, FYI, are what pickles are before you brine them) sandwiches on whole wheat, each with salt and pepper, Gulden's spicy brown and, of course, Duke's mayonnaise.
So at least I'm thematic. With the cukes and pickles, I mean.
But still, wouldn't stir-fried vegetables with some brown rice have been better for me? Or a big, fat steak? I think it's the stress of my upcoming Today Show appearance. If, in fact, appearance is even the right word for when they won't let you come sit on the sofa and make dream-boat eyes at Ann Curry.
Anyway, c'mon. I know you people think I'm like James Bond or something. But hey--I'm human too. And consider this: if the Today Show piece is a good one it will, best case scenario, assist me in selling The Screaming Pope for, say, one hundred seventy-five thousand dollars. Which would be a high for me.
This would then enable me to go out and buy that C-class Mercedes with the 468 horsepower V-8 they've been advertising recently. And the giggling that would then ensue? Manomanoman, I am here to tell you.
This, by the way, is the original small Mercedes with a big engine. If you catch my drift. Oh shit--just look at it! It reminds me of Ali the waitress (who I shot earlier today).
Imagine owning one of those. Imagine owning one of those and doing the bump-and-grind parking thing once a week on the Brooklyn streets above which I live. I mean, the mind reels. It is said that the more your car sounds like a boat the cooler it is. This car doesn't just sound like a boat; it sounds like the cigarette boat Sonny Crockett used to establish his street cred (canal cred?) on Miami Vice.
Anyway, there's a lot of pressure and I just burbled up a memory of Dr. Pickle.
--At around 7:45 I had the last slice of the half-of-a-blueberry-pie Chuck and Wyn gave me.
--Around 8:15 I had a sour pickle that I bought from Dr. Pickle (Sundays at the 5th Ave. farmer's market. You should taste his pickled mushrooms). Dr. Pickle, it should be noted, has also been hitting on my roommate. So when I was there last Sunday I gave a moment's thought to just grabbing him by the scruff of the neck, dragging him across the counter and kicking his ass. Cooler heads prevailed, obviously. Plus you start thrashing around on the sidewalk with a guy like that and you smell like pickles for a week.
--Around 9 I had one and a half cucumber (which, FYI, are what pickles are before you brine them) sandwiches on whole wheat, each with salt and pepper, Gulden's spicy brown and, of course, Duke's mayonnaise.
So at least I'm thematic. With the cukes and pickles, I mean.
But still, wouldn't stir-fried vegetables with some brown rice have been better for me? Or a big, fat steak? I think it's the stress of my upcoming Today Show appearance. If, in fact, appearance is even the right word for when they won't let you come sit on the sofa and make dream-boat eyes at Ann Curry.
Anyway, c'mon. I know you people think I'm like James Bond or something. But hey--I'm human too. And consider this: if the Today Show piece is a good one it will, best case scenario, assist me in selling The Screaming Pope for, say, one hundred seventy-five thousand dollars. Which would be a high for me.
This would then enable me to go out and buy that C-class Mercedes with the 468 horsepower V-8 they've been advertising recently. And the giggling that would then ensue? Manomanoman, I am here to tell you.
This, by the way, is the original small Mercedes with a big engine. If you catch my drift. Oh shit--just look at it! It reminds me of Ali the waitress (who I shot earlier today).
Imagine owning one of those. Imagine owning one of those and doing the bump-and-grind parking thing once a week on the Brooklyn streets above which I live. I mean, the mind reels. It is said that the more your car sounds like a boat the cooler it is. This car doesn't just sound like a boat; it sounds like the cigarette boat Sonny Crockett used to establish his street cred (canal cred?) on Miami Vice.
Anyway, there's a lot of pressure and I just burbled up a memory of Dr. Pickle.
posted by Geoffrey at 7:20 PM
1 Comments:
You do know that's a Shelby Cobra, right?
Now you've cast doubt on if you really ate that pickle.
Post a Comment
<< Home