September 19, 2006
It’s a Triple-Threat Tuesday!

Yes, today we've actually got three pieces for you. In addition to the freaky fourth installment of The Absolute Strangest Christmas Story Ever Told, there are Dusty Plastic HELL: Hot Flash #86 and a "review" of the La Tasca Spanish Tapas Bar & Restaurant in Baltimore, MD. Now, as noted in the piece, I don't particularly get off on restaurant critiques of the traditional sort that one finds in magazines and newspapers, to say nothing of the even less interesting kind that pepper weblog entries and the like. It pisses me off that people are so enthusiastic about restaurants and eating in general, especially when there's no creativity on their part involved. (Personally, if it were possible, I would have my stomach replaced with a computer -- but insofar as it is not, I do try to make something interesting out of this basic life necessity. Maybe not interesting to everyone, but those people should be eaten by hyenas.) So after the introductory remarks, this review focuses on my experience at the restaurant, much of which was determined by my semi-creepy infatuation with the utterly gorgeous waitress, because even that is far more interesting than noting that I ate food and it was good and telling you that you should do the same. I'd much rather you create your own dish from random ingredients and read Schleiermacher (or Scary-Crayon! ;)).

As noted on the content pages, there's nothing particularly involved about the Hot Flash -- I just happened to be sitting at La Tasca waiting to meet my server when the woman at the table next to me exclaimed that she liked her shirt, stood, and pulled it down such that it highlighted her breasts. They weren't nearly as big as I drew them in the comic, though. Also, note the slight difference in the background color of the Hot Flash -- that's intentional. We were just off of the river and enjoying the breeze from that direction, so I made the background kind of a sea green. Yep.

Got a comment from someone that I thought had a cool website devoted to OROKU SAKI, but it was actually a spam comment that linked to a site that sells paper shredders. I dunno, I thought it was funny.

And speaking of spam, I keep getting these e-mails asking me if I'm worried about the loss of "erectoin". Not really, seeing as how I don't even know what that is! But considering that thinking about what "erectoin" might be (maybe a special grade of heroin that makes one horny and high?) made me think of Ghostbusters, I move that we add the term "erecto-plasm" to the list of slang terms for semen.

Until next time, minna-san. 🙂

-posted by Wes | 12:33 am | Comments (5)
5 Comments »
  • agustinaldo says:

    1-If you liked that cute, nice woman so much, why didn't you talk to her?

    Is the big bad Wes shy around gorgeus women? I don't think so.

    I mean, that chick would probably be flattered to hear that you consider her one of the most beautiful woman in the world.

    And it's not like you haven't got charms: you have an athletic buld, a sharp mind, and a big heart.

    And you have the soul of a poet, so you could make a poem or a song or a haiku about her.

    So yes, Idefinetly think you have a chance with her.

    2-Well, I think restaurant reviews are there to tell you if the food there is worth eating. You know, to warn you that a restaurant might serve crap food, or to show you a restaurant with really good food.

    Or at least that how it SHOULD be.

    3-Your review is not creepy at all.

    And your infatuation with that girl is not creepy either. In fact, it's kind of adorable.

  • Wes says:

    To answer your points...

    1.) I am sort of shy, but that doesn't ultimately matter because I really didn't want or need anything from her. A photo might've been nice -- that would've been really creepy, though! -- but other than that, eh.

    2.) Yes, that is the idea behind restaurant reviews, but my problem is with the overemphasis on food in the first place. Again, much of this has to do with my home life -- I can't recall the last time my mother ever said anything remotely intelligent, but she'll spend hours on the phone reading restaurant menus to her girlfriends and discussing what they had for lunch. One of these women is now so fat that she can't even walk and they still go to lunch often and spend hours talking about fucking food! If I cared about you and you were so fat that you could no longer walk, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't actively encourage your addiction. And given the problems with obesity in this country and the emphasis placed on food (I still can't believe that there's a fucking Food Network, as opposed to the occasional cooking show on a special interest channel), I think a lot of people need to rearrange their priorities in that respect.

    3.) Oh, it is totally creepy -- at least in terms of current American culture. But the passion of the European Renaissance poets is all but dead in the contemporary New World.

  • manda-chan and i went to a tapas place while in chicago a couple months back.. - it was expensive but ultimately an amazing dining experiance.. - the wine probably helped in the regard, too.. - hooray for multiple S-C updates.

  • About the novel:
    Frickin' brilliant! The best part: You debated the existence of air! You have no idea how awesome that is. That is just Grade-A surrealism right there.

    About the restaurant review:
    Your views on people's fondness for food remind me of my old friend Laura, who I miss very much (lost touch with her). So, thanks for bringing up old-memories and making me feel sad (just kidding, it's not your fault).

    Anyway, I'm afraid I have to respectfully disagree with you (and Laura), on one point: I appreciate a good meal. I think it's natural to enjoy food that tastes good (if you don't over-do it, as many do). And i enjoy eating at a nice restaurant.

    But I agree about restaurant reviewers. I'll decide for myself what and where to eat. The only food review I've ever read (out of boredom) was for this "Cowboy Steakhouse" called "Bumper Bob's". The reviewer absolutely LOVED this place. Not because he thought it tasted good, but because the portions were big! How dumb is that! And he even sang praises about the gigantic steaks (frankly I don't like steak enough to ever want it "gigantic"), and the pork-chops being "juicy pink inside" which is a fucking HEALTH HAZARD (even by pork standards). That was it for restaurant reviews as far as I was concerned.

    Not that I didn't enjoy YOUR review. And, not that I didn't have fun that time I wrote 3 restaurant reviews as an English class project. The restaurants were : The Greek food booth at this filthy disgusting food court at a now non-existent mall, a local Hillbilly "greasy-spoon" joint in my neighborhood that my Dad dragged me to, and a really gross Taco Bell. And, I wrote about them like they were the finest dining possible, and mentioned how great "atmospheric touches" like dirty napkins at the mall were. And, did my best to make it read like one of those horrible newspaper reviews. Complete with an intentionally incomprehensible system of "stars" awarded to each one.

    The teacher (who shared my sense of humor, and understood the parody) gave me 100%.

    On creeping out pretty girls:
    I know exactly what you mean. I think I'm starting to creep out the cute nurse at the place I work at. And, all I do is say "Hi" every time I see her. Sometimes I wonder what result saying in a calm casual manner "I hope you don't mind me saying this, but I think you're rather cute" before going off to attend to something, would have. But, I don't have the nerve to try it out.

  • sb says:

    I went there last month (october 2007) and will never go back....the waiter seemed to have better things to do (like stand around and smoke) than wait tables. The food was luke warm and dry...as though it had been microwaved and then sat out for a few minutes while the waiter was finishing his 50th smoke break. And the famous sangria was more like forgetable grape juice. Don't waste your time with this place...go to the Irish beer place next door.

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