…is that I don’t care about myself, or, in Harper’s puzzle format:
Myself? I don’t care; about that. Is!
Fourteen hundred years ago when I started this Food & Dancing blog, my tiny testicles would have had a disproportionately enormous seizure over the events that have transpired in recent weeks (read: months), and the unprecedented blog material that those events would provide. Por ejemplo:
1. McSweeney’s is including a food section in the upcoming issue 33 newspaper—a.k.a. the San Francisco Panorama—and I’m editing it. I don’t feel guilty in the least in declaring that it is the mother-fucking shit. But after reading about food, and thinking about food, and writing about food, and convincing myself that thinking and writing about food all day isn’t a selfish/pointless endeavor, I just don’t have it in my transplanted guinea pig heart to write to you—you, the six of you, who have stuck with me since 12 BC when this blog was just a lonely repository for wooly mammoth recipes—about food. Samantha says I should just write shorter vignettes. But to write shorter vignettes would be to deny you what you come here for: 3,000-word jokes about vignettes, and that is just un-American. It’s downright Salvadoran.
2. My buddy Mia Hamm was in town last week and introduced me to his ridiculously talented/famous chef co-writer, Successful Chris. I tagged along with them on their endless misadventures through San Francisco. Believe me, I’ve taken every opportunity to brag incessantly about my spring break in Cancún with the two of them, but I haven’t done so here. Mostly because they’re doing it themselves, largely to my professional detriment. Read it, but let me state for the record that nobody thought that Successful Chris purposely jumped out of the window at Romolo. He clearly fell.
3. I just got back from a trip to Miami—one of my favorite food cities in the country—and Kansas City—a city I knew next to nothing about, still don’t know shit about, but sort of have an itsy bitsy teeny weeny boner for after eating 18 griddled burgers from Town Topic:
Oh, and about Miami. Two bottles of Bulleit Bourbon in two days will make this fucking hilarious to anybody: