Maybe it was me, you bastards!
 

I would say you are after my own heart if you didn't already have another internet girlfriend. Entrees -- at any kind of restaurant -- are the least appealing things on the menu. I make my choices about Mexican restaurants based signficantly on the quality of the chips & salsa. Sharing three baskets of chips with someone and being too full to eat your carnitas is one of life's great pleasures.

Such great heights
 

Whore.

Maybe it was me, you bastards!
 

Another qualifier: a Mexican restaurant sans Pacifico is not a good Mexican restaurant.

Mexicans can make some beer. Right up there with the Germans.

Maybe it was me, you bastards!
 

Not enough salt for my margarita will ruin my meal.

ETA: the above is false. I'll eat anything. I don't think I've ever had something, someone or some event "ruin" my appetite.

Maybe it was me, you bastards!
 

Have you had Maria Selma chips? They're utterly heavenly. If you order the crab and avacado appetizer and the chips and a bunch of margaritas and sit on the patio, you're a lucky, lucky man. The rest of the food isn't great, but those chips are to die for.

The wedding at The Ranch will have Ninfa's green sauce (and flour tortillas), El Pueblito's red sauce, Maria Selma's chips, and Pico's margaritas.

I'm thinking about organizing a margarita tour of Westheimer starting at Mango's, then Felix's, moving to Hugo's, then Cafe Adobe, then Berryhill, then Beso, then the place at the corner of Kirby and Westheimer whose name has escaped me, and ending up at Chuys.

I expect that not many will make it past Cafe Adobe, if only because their patio is nice.

Maybe it was me, you bastards!
 

3. I am a huge fan of the three appetizers as a meal approach to ordering. Most entrees are never as tasty as the apps.

Maybe it was me, you bastards!
 

The original Chuy's, Chuy's Comida, is at the corner of Kirby and Westheimer. Unless you're thinking of the place with the Blue sign across the street, which is called (I think) El Marisco, or Marisco's.

Maybe it was me, you bastards!
 

27. Mr Man and I can make almost any restaurant into a tapas restaurant (though not usually a topless restaurant unless we are doing the public make-up sex thing).

Maybe it was me, you bastards!
 

No, I'm talking about that yuppie tequila place with the nice patio next to Baker's Street that's on the northeast corner. Chuy's is on the other side of Kirby and a little further down Westheimer.

Google has once again saved my ass: Taco Milagro.

Maybe it was me, you bastards!
 

I like margaritas but they inevitably make me hurl. The only time I've ever been bodily thrown out of a bar was at El Coyote in West Hollywood, when I went into the mens' room to buy condoms for my friend Neal because it was his birthday. Shortly before, I turned to my friend Tova and said "I cannot believe I am so hammered and this is only my first margarita" and she said "Honey, that's your fifth margarita". I do not drink margaritas any more.

Maybe it was me, you bastards!
 

That reminds me... I have to get into a knock down drag out with the old lady one of these days. I haven't had the make up sex in a while.

Maybe I'll email those nude shots she gave me for our anniversary to a friend.

No, better not do that. They really didn't get me from my most flattering side.

Liz Phair
 

Still hot at 38.

http://graphics8.nytimes.com/images/...s/02phaiXL.jpg

And playing in the East Village tonight, according to the profile of her in today's New York Times. I'm so there.

Maybe it was me, you bastards!
 

Sadly, the only time I ever got kicked out of a bar was after the bar exam, and someone in the celebratory group didn't have their ID because he didn't put it back in his wallet after the exam was over. He got into an argument about it with the bouncer, trying to use the bar ticket as proof of age and then snuck in when the bouncer was arguing with someone else about something. Bouncer at the bar individually hunted down every single bar examinee and escorted us out of the Gingerman. The bar next door bought us shots, though, so our outraged was short-lived.

Such great heights
 

I don't know if I'd call it a "contingent," but there were enough GAs at Plated's wedding to lower the overall tone of the event. Maybe it was just the GAs, though. Plated's presence alone is pretty hard to overcome.

At least we got to find out which half of you is jewish.

Liz Phair
 

She's doing 3 nights here soon at a place that holds about 500 people if that many. I'm so there too.