A Gift From The Gods

I went to a friend's birthday party the other day at a Tapas Bar. Now, I know Tapas arre the hottest things since Flashdance leggings these days, but I think it's just a great way for most restaurants to make a bunch of really over-priced, mediocre food.

The party was too large to enjoy at a long, rectangular table, but the high point was when a friend's boyfriend mentioned that he had just left a caterer's house where they enjoyed the leftover fish from an event the night before. He said she had so much that she gave him some, and that he had it in the car, and that he didn't cook, and that if I wanted it, it was mine.

Even if the fish was bad, this was a good invitation to leave the party; and so, my wife and i said our goodbyes and headed to his hatchback, where he gave me a big white garbage bag with what looked like fish and a bunch of ice. I was not impressed.

The wife and I had another party to go to at a friend's house (I know, the life of a married man with a kid) and so I stuck the bag in the freezer next to the vodka and coffee beans.

When we finally got home, I opened the windows and went to the bag, expecting to find some fetid fish that i MIGHT feed to the cats.

Much to my surprise, what I discovered was gold. This stranger had given me 9 pounds of some of the freshest ahi and salmon I have ever seen. There was so much fish, I didn't know what to do with it. So, of course, I made a feast. The menu is listed below. Thank you to the caterer and this guy sleeping with my friend for allowing me to have some fun (and a little bit of fish).

lou’s night o’ fish

Hawaiian Tuna Poke on rice crackers
Tuna Rolls with tempura crisps
Salmon Skin Rolls
Miso Soup
Pepper and Sesame Crusted Seared Tuna with Wasabi Soy Whiskey dipping sauce and julienned green onion
Teriyaki Seared Tuna
Cucumber Salad with Arame, Thin Sliced Red Onion and Bonito Flakes
Zucchini with paprika, lemon and pepper

Deep Husk Red Brown Rice with Edamame and Carrots

Jean-George Flourless Molten Cake
Ginger, Vanilla and Mint ice cream

Music to Pedal By

Top 2 Songs to Ride up a Mountainbike trail with:

"The Magnificient Seven" by The Clash
"Beatomatic" by The Scabs

Get on a bike and try them out.

Cruising

I'm a little behind, and I promise to do an update on the whole cruise trip, but in the meantime, I found this little riff I wrote somewhere off of Cuba.

Gliding along the sea
Hovering
Twelve Stories Up
Just me and the radomes
Hideously Beautiful

George Carlin's New Rules for 2006

I love this guy...


New Rule: Stop giving me that pop-up ad for classmates.com! There's a reason you don't talk to people for 25 years. Because you don't particularly like them! Besides, I already know what the captain of the football team is doing these days: mowing my lawn.

New Rule: Don't eat anything that's served to you out a window unless you're a seagull. People are acting all shocked that a human finger was found in a bowl of Wendy's chili. Hey, it cost less than a dollar. What did you expect it to contain? Trout?

New Rule: Stop saying that teenage boys who have sex with their hot, blonde teachers are permanently damaged. I have a better description for these kids: lucky bastards.

New Rule: If you need to shave and you still collect baseball cards, you're a dope. If you're a kid, the cards are keepsakes of your idols. If you're a grown man , they're pictures of men.

New Rule: Ladies, leave your eyebrows alone. Here's how much men care about your eyebrows: do you have two of them?Okay, we're done.

New Rule: There's no such thing as flavored water. There's a whole aisle of this crap at the supermarket, water, but without that watery taste. Sorry, but flavored water is called a soft drink. You wantflavored water? Pour some scotch over ice and let it melt. That's your flavored water.

New Rule: Stop f***ing with old people. Target is introducing a redesigned pill bottle that's square, with a bigger label. And the top is now the bottom. And by the time grandpa figures out how to open it, his ass will be in the morgue. Congratulations, Target, you just solved the Social Security crisis.

New Rule: The more complicated the Starbucks order, the bigger the ass hole. If you walk into a Starbucks and order a "decaf grande half-soy, half-low fat, iced vanilla, double-shot, gingerbread cappuccino, extradry, light ice, with one Sweet-n'-Low and one NutraSweet," ooh, you're a huge ass hole.

New Rule: I'm not the cashier! By the time I look up from sliding my card, entering my PIN number, pressing "Enter," verifying the amount, deciding, no, I don't want cash back, and pressing "Enter" again,the kid who is supposed to be ringing me up is standing there eating my Almond Joy.

New Rule: Just because your tattoo has Chinese characters in it doesn't make you spiritual. It's right above the crack of your ass. And it translates to "beef with broccoli." The last time you did anything spiritual, you were praying to God you weren't pregnant. You're not spiritual. You're just high.

New Rule: Competitive eating isn't a sport. It's one of the seven deadly sins. ESPN recently televised the US Open of Competitive Eating, because watching those athletes at the poker table was just too damnedexciting. What's next, competitive farting? Oh wait. They're already doing that. It's called "The Howard Stern Show."

New Rule: I don't need a bigger mega M&M. If I'm extra hungry for M&Ms, I'll go nuts and eat two.

New Rule: If you're going to insist on making movies based on crappy, old television shows, then you have to give everyone in the Cineplex a remote so we can see what's playing on the other screens. Let's remember the reason something was a television show in the first place is that the idea wasn't good enough to be a movie.

New Rule: No more gift registries. You know, it used to be just for weddings. Now it's for babies and new homes and graduations from rehab. Picking out the stuff you want and having other people buy it for you isn't gift giving, it's the white people version of looting.

New Rule: and this one is long overdue: No more bathroom attendants. After I zip up, some guy is offering me a towel and a mint like I just had sex with George Michael. I can't even tell if he's supposed to be there, or just some freak with a fetish. I don't want to be on your web cam, dude. I just want to wash my hands.

New Rule: When I ask how old your toddler is, I don't need to know in months. "27 Months." "He's two," will do just fine. He's not a cheese. And I didn't really care in the first place

Happy day

Hideously beautiful