Welcome back to the weekly roundup, where yours truly is currently racing against an incoming hellstorm-raingasm, and hoping to get this thing completed before the bottom falls out. Will I succeed? The only way to know is to read on.
We started the week off right with sushi, sushi, sushi, sushi. Do me a favor. Go to the nearest window and toss a rock out of it without looking. Yup, you just hit a sushi restaurant. Quick, blame it on some kids. Sushi chefs have scary-ass knife skills.
Guess who got the pizzas with hot dogs jammed into their crusts? Wrong: this time, it was England. If I ever vacation in England and a native gets snooty with me, I'm just going to hold up pictures of the hot-dog pizza. Strewth!
In addition to our plentiful, almost relentless sushi coverage, we also had a fine smorgasbord of chow south of the border, with Argentina, El Salvador and Mexico receiving tasty treatment. Hey, just something I've been curious about: Are all those Nazis that escaped to Argentina dead yet? Seems like somebody out there might know.
You know how in cartoons, opulence was always signified by a feast featuring an entire roast pig with an apple stuck in its mouth? Well, some people had a contest at cooking that, and I also discovered that I have no real friends, because not one of them told me about it.
If you're having lunch (or second breakfast) in the Museum District, you might try some of the food trucks roving about over there. Lunchtime in the Museum District can offer the unique opportunity of consuming a turkey sandwich while staring directly at the skeleton of a Tyrannosaurus Rex. Try not wondering what dinosaurs tasted like in that situation, I challenge you.
Some awesome things: underrated non-MacFarlane cartoon Bob's Burgers, Sunday brunch at Whole Foods and our very own fantastically successful Menu of Menus event. I notice a lot of really, really attractive women there every year. It's almost uncanny.
Shenanigans aplenty this week: Late Night Pie's torching was arson, and who's being charged but the owner and the manager. Hurl all the accusations you want, people, but to me, this stinks of the Noid. Oh yeah, you thought we forgot about you, you little bastard, but not all of us. Not all of us...so anyway, people are camping out in a tent city for free Chik-fil-A for a year, which is a much better deal than the last time I camped out overnight in line for something (Phantom Menace tickets). Best of luck to all you proper, God-fearing heterosexuals waiting for your hate-chicken.
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The final shenanigan of the week: A toddler almost got her foot torn off at the Spindletop. Sweet God, is there no kill switch on that thing? Seems like anything involving slowly rotating tons of machinery and oodles of slow-witted tourists ought to have something in place to bring it under immediate control, but that's just me. Oh, Jason Lee from Mallrats, where were you when we needed you?
For those of you dying from the suspense: Nope, I didn't make it in time. It's raining elephants and rhinos out there. Drive safe for once, please.