Excuse me, your Freudian slip is showing.
 

No. I lost my eyebrows that way in College. I have done the “Gin Torch” since. My Italian friends tell me its an excellent way to rid yourself of back hair.

Excuse me, your Freudian slip is showing.
 

Funny you should say that. I was at a luncheon in lime green pants last week. The waitress asked me if I was a doctor. I was baffled. In front of the whole table, she said “Those are scrubs, aren’t they?”

I tipped her in Canadian coins and subway tokens.

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On what other occasions have you used the Gin Torch after the unfortunate eyebrow incident?

Excuse me, your Freudian slip is showing.
 

You got what you deserved. Lime green? That may play in Minneapolis [hi, PLF!], but Philly?

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Aren't those the Eagles colors?

http://images.bidville.com/uploads/2002.09.12/C.jpg

Excuse me, your Freudian slip is showing.
 

Speaking of, he has to be one of ESPN's most prized assets. One of the best. I could watch him, Gammons and Bob Ley over and over again. What happened to Dan Patrick? Banished to radio?

TM

Excuse me, your Freudian slip is showing.
 

None. I’d sooner ingest paint thinner than gin. I won’t get withing sniffing distance of gin, eggplant, kiwi fruit or menthol cigarettes. I have this strong aversion to certain substances. Perhaps an allergy to juniper berries used in Gin. Who knows? Probably genetic. My father can’t tolerate gin either. I grew up believing until I was 15 or so that a true martini was a vodka drink.

FASHION QUESTION & OBSERVATION
 

Those salesladies have so many different words for "sweater."

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Grilled eggplant? Good stuff.

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True. This town dresses in the dark.

Pleated dockers and Lands End button downs. Hot... if you’re looking to score at a postal worker’s convention. But I guess its better than when people here actually try to look stylish. There’s something really nauseating about 50ish yentas and “Denises” dressing like Britney. And the massive sets of double D fake tits and bad facelifts are a crime against humanity.

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Most disgusting food ever served anywhere (including monkey brains). Its like a small black football filled with seeds and gelatin. And when you cut the fucker open it looks like you’ve unearthed a maggot farm. Good for throwing and nothing else.

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I'm with Ollie about you and friends sharing way too much.

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Yes -- with a side of gin, followed by a post-prandial menthol cigarette.

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2. I think that I'm going to have to retract my declaration of love for Sebby based on some of his food issues. I'm more likely to order gin than any other alcohol, and I love eggplant, especially in thai curry. I don't have strong feelings about kiwi, but I'll eat it.

I don't smoke.

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What the....

RT, I thought you said the webcam wasn't going live until next month?

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Apropos of this, the Not Bobette gave me the second season of the Dave Chappelle show on DVD for Father's Day. We watched an episode last night where he had a game show segment in which he asked real people (the ones I remember were a white female NYC cop, a white male African American history professor, a young male black barber, a young male korean store owner) questions about black culture.

"Why do black people smoke menthol cigarettes?" was one of them, with "nobody knows" given as the correct answer. The whole segment was hysterical.

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
 

Good stuff?

My friends know me so well.
 

This article has been forwarded to me by at least six people today.

I pass it on to you.

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I don’t have a problem with those who like the gin and the eggplant. I just can’t handle them myself. But I’m insanely high maintenance and picky about what I eat and drink. I won’t have any vodka lower than Stoli and will not eat anything sauteed in butter (even though I’ll dip lobster and clams in butter and enjoy botter on rolls, etc...). Luckily for waitresses, I hate people who send food back, so if I get buttered fish/noodles, I will suck it up and eat the dish.

Is there anything worse than someone sending food back for a minor problem with the dish?

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Ashey Larry should get his own show.

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Someone who stiffs the server on the tip because of one.

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I am actually unable to smoke anymore. I quit five years ago but try an occasional smoke about once a year. I can never get through half of it. It's disgusting, which is strange b/c I really used to enjoy it.

Luckily, second-hand smoke doesn't bother me at all, which is another great reason for me to move to europe...

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Depends on the restaurant. If you're in a diner with a waitress who's at the end of a 14 hour double shift, sending back your eggs even if they're blackened is a dick move.

OTOH, if you're at the Ritz Carlton and you order the $35 seared tuna rare and it comes to you completely grey, that sucker is going back no matter how snotty the waiter is.

Of course, perhaps neither of those are minor problems.

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If it makes you feel better, usually that action results in a compensating reaction by the kitchen. If I send something back, I typically don't want anything in return. But I only send stuff back in extreme circumstances (hair (not mine) in food, etc.), not because I don't like how something is prepared.

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Exactly. See my post about adding things to the guac.

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You must be fucking joking. I'm supposed to eat burnt up eggs that they fucked up because the waitress is at the end of a long day? Fuck that. Send them back politely and pray they aren't sauteed in spit.

Word.

TM

My friends know me so well.
 

"Zero marketing"? Yeah, planting an article isn't marketing.

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all the stories I've heard of restaurant people spitting, coming, etc. in food are not revenge based for a send back . they are all based upon hate for the average diner at the restaurant. They want to fuck with the food of anyone who would cause them to have to work where they work.

My sample is the guy in Fight Club, and 1 cook I've heard of who gobbed on hamburgers because he hated anyone who could afford to eat at the place he worked. Note that Fight Club was supposedly based upon true stories the author had heard.

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You'll have to ask shifty if plastic and vaseline mix.

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You're such a complainer. At least you didn't need a liver.

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I ate at Nob Hill (a nice restaurant in Vegas) with my girlfriend awhile back. She ordered the veal chop (I think) medium rare and it came well done. She didn't want to send it back and was going to eat it. I told her not to and politely told the waitress that it was well done. She graciously took it back, apologized and returned with the chef and a complimentary glass of wine for my gf to enjoy while she waited for them to cook a new one. The next cut was absolutely deeeelicious.

Best service we ever had (including the table we got, which always surprises us because we tend to get put near the kitchen).

Good restaurants are embarrassed by mistakes like that and you should call them to their attention.

TM

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I have a friend with Food Issues. Going out with her is a fucking pain in the ass because every order is a complicated, convoluted recreation of something on the menu. More often than not, the order gets fucked up, and she ends up sending stuff back. I ALWAYS order the simplest thing to prepare on the menu when I go out with her in the hopes that the inevitable fall out from the kitchen doesn't extend to her tablemates.

Excuse me, your Freudian slip is showing.
 

Hmm. Did you do this just to confuse me?

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I openly ridicule these people to the wait staff in an attempt to lighten the mood, hoping to avoid the "Hey Rocko, piss in their soup" comments upon putting the order in.

TM

This fall, on HBO
 

This fucking network ... you can just never cancel it. Ricky Gervais's new show will be on HBO next month.

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/08/19/ar...wanted=1&8hpib

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Needs some hyphens.

TM

Interruptus Again
 

Thanks for all the comedy suggestions. Ultimately, "date night" ended up with me rolling around the top of my bedspread with my S/O in every sexual position known to mankind so we didn't get the chance to hit the video store. (I thought we had needed a comedy to lighten things up but, ahem, it seemed something else was needed.)

Anyhoo, quick question on computer music. I do a decent amount of downloading songs and I'd like better sound quality than the wimpy (but not too bad) speakers that came with my Dell flat screen computer purchased about 2 years ago. I have an old crappy stereo and speakers in the front room but rather than upgrade that one, any thoughts on whether good speakers could be added to the computer in the bedroom? Basically, what do I need to make the computer the source of some good quality funk?

(Yes, this question is sex-related because the whole point is to shag on the new shag rug -- they're back in you know-- in the little alcove to the bedrom, preferably to the sounds of some recent downloaded tunes which of course include my bad, bad girl, Fionna.)

Yeah, yeah I know. "Take it to the Politics Board, Keaton".

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It's a sliding scale. Burnt eggs? Send them back. Rye instead of wheat toast? Suck it up.

You're exactly right about the nicer restaurants, though -- they want you to tell them when there is a problem.

And, based upon my experience working in nice, sorta nice, and not so nice restaurants, your food is safe unless you are a complete prick. The only time I saw anything was when a guy (not my customer) had sent back a filet mignon he ordered medium well (bad idea, btw) several times, culminating in a complaint that it was tough, and he wanted a new one. The new one was bounced off the floor several times, and since the cook was a mean bastard under the best of circumstances, and was at that point frothing at the mouth with a huge cleaver in his hand, no one said anything to him about it.

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Sorry. The guy was white, and he was identified as a professor of African American history.

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And commas.