10:29 am | 03 February 2003 | cooking; cutting; living

T. is a culinary wizard. Sunday morning, as i clung to the brink of sanity (on a rope bridge between drunk and sober, swinging in a dangerous breeze which the natives call Ab-Al Blurhg, orDid Not Sleep Saturday Night), he thoughtfully spread Nutella and honey on some sort of white (sourdough? Italian?) bread, and then TOASTED IT ON THE GEORGE FOREMAN GRILL*.

Yes, I know. I'll let that sink in for a minute.

I mumbled something to the effect of "Goddamn, dude. Only Elvis' comestible genius surpasses this." He nodded sagely. "I know."

* He apparently found the Foreman in the trash (from someone moving and throwing out a bunch of stuff), cleaned it up, and brought it home. I'm about 40% "Ew!" and 60% "Yeah, i would totally do that."

Apparently at Club Foot on Saturday I frightened one of our friends. It went like this:
Mr. Fox: I've always had a thing for redheads.
Claude: My sister has red hair. She's coming into town for Koo's birthday party.
F: Oh really.
C: Dude. Stay away from my sister, or i will mess you up.
F: [smirks] Yeah, like what?
C: Like, i will stick a knife in your neck. But i won't kill you--oh no. It will be specially calculated to just hurt a lot, resting gently between trachea and larynx. [Feinting towards neck with straw from drink] Jab! Jab!! [Grimaces menacingly]
F: [nervously] Uh, okay. [Gulps down beer. Leaves.]
I felt momentarily bad/creepy, but I meant it. All y'all: STAY AWAY FROM MY SISTER. Or I'll cut you!

This is good: "For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin, real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life."
����������������-Alfred D'Souza