NeroW

Word.

Come on--sure they are.

Yes. Then there was that.

Procedure please. Sweet Mesquite BBQ Pringles. And a Corona--only beer in the house.

Nero: Did you make this happen? Did you have the duck? Did you get one of the "private dining nooks?"---aren't they pretty? Tell. No, we didn't get one of the private dining nooks. Boy, were they ever cute, though! Opera was just on the edge of too-trendy for me. There was a photo shoot going on by the bathrooms, for the love of Pete. BUT! The food . . . excellent. It was my mother, Fritz Brenner, our uncle, and me. We had: Pork and Ginger Dumplings Maine Lobster Springrolls Some kind of Celery Curry soup with Shaved Scallops Eight Immortal Squid (or whatever it's called, I didn't take notes) served with 2 dipping sauces and 5-spice Peking Duck Three Ways Kung Pao Beef Pork Lo Mein (I think)--in some kind of mustard-y sauce and Fritz had the special, a halibut and morel dish served on a big-ass wonton Sorry these aren't very accurate. I just reread them, and boy, do I sound like an idiot! I looked for a website to get exact dish names, but I couldn't find one. Suffice it to say we were all very, very pleased with the meal, and the next time someone wants to take me on a date (hint, hint), I'd like to go back.

I loved those in high school. Especially the little messages in the caps. Do they still do that? The best one I ever saw was: "Close the government. Open the Mickey's." I almost peed myself when I saw it.

Dear God.

I would kill for a Fat Tire. Can't get it in Michigan. Went to Missouri last week and got my fill. I heard a rumor that New Belgium will not ship thier beer more than 3 states away. Anyone know? I found a Fat Tire hiding in the fridge at my aunt's house in Michigan last week. I'll bet they brought it in from Montana. I left a Bell's Oberon in its place and then I drank the Fat Tire. I felt guilty. Then, a couple days later, I noticed there were several cases of Fat Tire in their basement. Gone was the guilt, and I drank the Oberon.

Ha! Ha ha! I'd tourne them.

My mom and sister are coming into the city tonight. My mom wants to eat here. Again. I hope she doesn't change her mind.

Cough drops. Coffee.

Word.

I wonder about that "school banking scheme" myself. Keep it coming, y'all. This is going to get me through a semester of Soups and Sauces.

Back in Chicago, back to the old grind. Tamales. Black beans. Uh, PBR. Only thing in the house. Besides water, and I don't touch that stuff.

Thank you, your Neroness. (One seventh of a ton is bigtime bouncing! The neighbors are complaining. They always complain.

Roast beef, salami, smoked turkey, sweet pepper, red onion, tomato, romaine sub with pickles and Krunchers chips.

Excellent! I'm bouncing in my seat.

Hard-boiled egg.

Just got the new Harry Potter. Everything else in life slips away.

When I was in France, absentmindedly eating these out of the pouch on a bus, I got a vomit one.

Just ate Fritz Brenner's sublime scrambled eggs, with tomato and shallot, and toasted English muffins with my aunt's makes-anything-taste-good jam. And lots of The Brown.

Holy shit! That's awesome. If you invited me over, we could clear that bad boy out in a few hours.

Nero, let's get a case of PBR, sit in the backyard, & just ignore this thread. Dude, are you next door? Because that's what I'm just about to do.

Orson Welles: Yeah, that's it. That quote was extra credit on one of our Sanitation tests. If we could identify its author, we got the extra credit. Guess who didn't get those points.

Hell yeah. I'd buy that for a dollar.