Between getting my tooth fixed, and running reports, I’ve had little time to come up for air today. But perhaps I can take just a moment just to talk about the amazing salads coming out of Emilio’s at the moment. Coal miners are dying, a mummified woman was found in front of her TV, Lou Rawls shuffled off and Alito’s on deck – but none of this will ever interest me as much as a South American Fire Anthill-sized mound of feta cheese. Except maybe the fact that The Shield starts tonight.
Did a loose, giant Greek mouse make this salad? I don’t know. I can sort of picture one, with a moustache and a bottle of Ouzo – sneaking into the kitchen and getting all crazy with the fromage, before then sodomizing anything with a pulse. I mean, this was truly remarkable. Like a remake of Close Encounters with Dreyfuss using crumbly white goodness to sculpt that mountain in his house instead of mashed potatoes. Just like that.
Whoever was working the lunch shift today obviously had no idea how much feta costs. And I sincerely hope they don’t read this site and get clued in all of a sudden. Because I hear I’m big with the Brazilians. I would instead encourage them to think of it as a sort of condiment. Emilio, when you throw the 5 bags of ketchup in the bag, go ahead and fire in a $7 block of my own personal dairy crack right on top. No, it’s fine. Grows on trees and costs less than matchbooks. There’s a good Emilio.
I need to go home.
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