table for hate.

Stupid name, stupid food.

Best bfast in town- Imperial Mix up- Eggs, rice, and tempeh. Couple it with a mimosa and a coffee and you’re golden. Madrona is pretty cute despite all the waspy old mums and their fuck trophies drooling on themselves like little drunk retards, shoving buttery noodles in their mouthes and coloring things with horrid primary colored crayons.

In the summer I’ll be prattling away at my office, heavily engaged with a gigantic screen and so many spreadsheets, enduring blazing heat of which ceiling fans merely agitate. I’ll be cursing my birth and thinking of ways for the lazy to commit suicide when Cory will call or text me from Vons, likely in an all white outfit involving jeans and a v neck, all tan and hot and blond, perfect and drunk, at 12:30 pm on a Tuesday - because why the fuck not?

Upscale Red Robin for youngish men with loads of money and obligatory X5s, who flock reluctantly with clients,  saddened by table-side salads and flaming desserts, yet compelled like so many reticent girls on first dates.

Last time Gabe and I went to Morton’s I called ahead and ordered him a 3 pound lobster. He wanted the biggest one on the planet, but Morton’s tank was only so large, so we had to settle for the dwarfed version of his fantasy crustacean. The waiter suggested vodka for the tamale roe and Gabe refused and insisted upon only consuming cranberry juice (this was before Leonardo DiCaprio made this okay in the Departed) and so I was forced to drink for the both of us. I’m pretty sure I went for a gender appropriate meal (petite sirloin?) but I drank too much that night so can’t remember. We brought the leftovers to Bacon.

Best sushi in seattle unless your name is Santos. If your name is Santos and you sleep in bed with Al you’re most likely a cat and not really that into sushi despite cartoons depicting you and all your cat friends making high brow jokes over trays of spicy tuna rolls. If you’re a human, 9 out of 10 of you will go bonkers for this place. The big mouth roll is super as is the squid intestine (yum!). Last time we mixed ikura, uni, and tamago all on top of one nigiri piece just to defy Gabe’s rigorous sense of decorum. “It was a real triumph of the human spirit,” said Barack Obama, who was dining at the table next to ours. It’s important not to antagonize the gabes over dessert, as we regretfully learned last time when mixing shiro maguro in with his red bean icre cream.