Major panthole appeared weeks ago in critical sector of second starter in the jeans rotation. Have ignored it for some time, but original hope of pant platelets coming to the rescue is rapidly fading.
In other news, I had a conversation with TK about Prop K. Am I a bad liberal for being opposed to it? I’m all for legalizing/regulating prostitution for the health and safety of the Ps, but is stripping law enforcement of their power really the solution? What gets me is the sex trafficking angle. The whole things seems ill-conceived in the same way as—but potentially more harmful than—the bevvy of measures on each ballot that read something like, “Shall it be city policy that if it’s yellow, we should let it mellow Alcatraz should be converted into a cookie farm?”
If anybody is put off by meat-talk, or by intrusions from self-conscious minority bloggers, I’m an administrator for this blog and can remove this entry should there be any protest.
Once, as I was about to take a picture of a green pea coulis (or a bowl of birria or some such thing), my girlfriend said to me, “Is that an Asian thing, taking photos of food?”
First of all, I’m not Asian. I’m not even a man.
Secondly, maybe. I can’t purport to speak for all the various peoples of Asia (again, I am not Asian. I am a German subcompact car), but if amateur food photography is not an Asian prerogative, then uploading food photos to Flickr sure as hell seems to be.
In any case, here I am prattling on about what it means to be a 21st-century Asian fatty, when all I meant to do is introduce my upcoming weekend culinary adventure mini-series here on GJ: Rib Cookin’ with the Duke.