The Zoo over Ambuscade Street

I, apparently, am not a "foodie." Not much on the list even sounded appealing to me. Maybe if I had a couple thousand dollars laying around that I could spend on dinner, it would be a different story. I get the feeling that most of the people who wrote this would have been horrified at Erik's ghetto chili recipe. Ghetto chili is what you get when you start making chili without checking to make sure you have all the ingredients first, like tomatoes, and you then scramble to find a substitute - salsa, in this case. He wanted to put in tomato paste, but I stopped him. Happily.

It actually wasn't half bad.

Hey - if any of you happen to have Netflix accounts, would you mind sending in title requests for Spiral 4+, Boys Over Flowers 11 and 12 (with as much trouble as I had getting this series, you'd think they'd have it listed already), and Wedding Peach 9 and DX? I don't know why they have so much trouble picking up the trailing ends of series.

DEAR GOD HE WON'T STOP!

Buck is MIA - although his charming generipop is playing in the background, punctuated occasionally by his email notifier - "Master, I have mail for you."

So, I must be the target of Fu-Master's diatribes on local schools. He was grilling me on what the closest schools to where I live are, and how they're ranked. I...don't know, nor do I really care, since I don't have kids! Then, he continues his charming commentary on his children.

(paraphrased, but only slightly) "My youngest daugher won some kind of Campbell award for writing some letter thing. I will be interesting to see how many asian kids are there for an English (emphasis not mine) writing competition. She can't even spell!"

Stabbity death is too good for him. I'll need to invent something more severe. Oh, and have I noted that Fu-Master was both born and raised in the US? Yea...

Then, he followed it up with a ten minute instructional lesson about how to build a pyramid out of cardboard and construction paper. I have clearly angered entire pantheons worth of gods. There's no other reason to make me suffer like this.

If it wasn't for the fact that I'd be breaking about a dozen federal laws, and I'd be lucky if all that happened was I got fired, I'd record these conversations - they really have to be heard to be believed.

Goal for the day! To respond to anything Fu-Master says to me with quotes from either "Waiting for Godot" or "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead."

Fu-Master is having jaw trouble. Buck (who finally waltzed in) is offering to fix it by injecting it with WD-40. All I ask is that I get to watch.

I really couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. Not enough crack in my diet, I think.