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Monday, March 27, 2006


It's going to be tough. I walked by the Billy Goat Tavern last night. I poked my head in. Thankfully in my moment of weakness the good lord stepped in, the kitchen was shut down, and the place was empty except for a few mokes at the bar. It looked like Moe's Tavern. At some point this week, I will break down and head back there. I gotta have my 'cheez-borger' - double cheez-borger, it's the best. It's a simple enough concept, put the burger on a kaiser roll - presto! The best burger anywhere.

I'm not worried about pizza here. What they call pizza here is actually a casserole I think, anyway, there's no danger for me there.

The hot dogs, now that's a potential problem. Maybe if I up the CRESTOR dose......just kidding.

Chicago is a food town. A great food town. I'm sure I can find some fish somewhere, but it might be stuffed with cheese and wrapped in bacon. Grouper with confit of Keilbasa, you get the picture.

I'll be good, but I know, at least once, I'm gonna be real bad, and it will be very good.

Now you know exactly what it's like for this fatty when I come home to New York. My trip up for Tedstock sent my 7 months of strict diet diligence into the crapper. I'm in the second dreary month of getting back on the wagon and it's turning out to be twice as hard.

"What they call pizza here is actually a casserole..." I laughed out loud. How accurate is that. I will say that casserole is pretty fucking good though.

If I lived in Chicago with all that good food and long winters they'd have to remove a wall from my house to get me out to bury me after my heart attack. There'd be no stopping me.
But you would definately get some kind of award for keeping that couch from flying away.
With me dead and all, my two very fat cats would do a sufficiant job of keeping the couch from floating away in the event of a gravity crisis event. They get a great deal of practice in this roll right now.
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