
Hi, pig.

So a month ago I was privileged enough to attend Art of the Table in celebration of one Mr. Chris Furniss’s yearly birth remembrance. The place is a veritable celebration of gastronomy and having heard the evangelical hymnals sung by both Chris and Jinny I was more than enthused when the first plate hit the table.
Were this a proper blog post I’d include a scan of the menu and exclaim how each course was not only perfectly prepared but also increasingly complimentary to the meal as a whole. As this is not proper I will include but two of the shots that survived the fiery maw of mine own screening process. The frustrations presented by my now aged D200’s CMOS in low light conditions continue to vex.
Go, go and be merry.
Behold the bloggiest of blog posts this psuedoblog has ever witnessed.
Car Ride

Mini Golf

Traditional Pac-Man Non-Cake


I had a whole diatribe primed for this text field but might hold off, let it simmer, and see if a thick layer of article rises to the surface for tomorrow’s harvest.

Despite a Sinatra-only sound system my local grocer has its hang ups.
Like this display which lacks both an appeal to the appetite and semblance of inter species competition.
It’s like they don’t even care.

Having found questionable metal objects in the automobile it was only natural I inquire as to their purpose.
“So I can practice!”
The above is but a taste of the graphic demonstration given to me, spur of the moment, complete with commentary and important parts articulated in a series of probing yet delicate gestures. The end result of this fiendish finger ballet is, if you can imagine, a rose of icing one might find atop a saccharine morsel.
Dozens of poignant, clever remarks sprang to mind given the artist’s nature as a bitter ice queen and the medium pure sugar but the light hit that metal proboscis just the right way in the just the nick of time to save my exposed face and genitals from what was sure to be a rapid introduction to said metal item.
How many occurrences equate tradition?
As if I really needed an excuse to, you know, travel and drink with one of my Marine buddies. While most of my commentary from last year still rings true the difference in photography between that one and this (full set there) is pretty freakin drastic. I wish I could claim it’s better but will settle for different.
We ended up in Munich on the last day of the fest and it was packed, easily five times the people as last time. We didn’t plan to spend the day in the tents for this go instead opting to feed off the collective energy for a while, grab just a few beers, and gorge on that fucking chicken that I lusted after for the last year.
Seriously, it’s just chicken > season > roast > cut in half > eat with fingers. Why isn’t this done everywhere?
Wouldn’t mind going for three next year.