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2001-07-26 | 11:50 p.m.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckety fuck. I thought it was so cute when Hugh Grant said that in Four Weddings and a Funeral and then I heard somebody else say it in another movie that was even older than FW&aF, and I thought, Geez, do people really say that?

I am trying to finish up this restaurant review because I said I would finish it tonight but tonight will be over in about six minutes or so and I'm not done. Bleh.

Why do I get myself into these predicaments?

I don't have the vocabulary to write restaurant reviews. I'm sitting here thinking about this one dish, and how the sauce is so tasty, this "spicy sweet chili paste sauce," which is what it's called but that doesn't sound at all like what it tastes like. What it tastes like is more or less the Thai answer to Kansas City barbecue sauce, by which I mean not that it tastes like barbecue sauce, but that it has high notes and low notes, and it's savory, but not like gravy is savory; savory like... I don't know what. I've never tasted anything else like it, so how the fuck would I know?

Okay, now don't take this the wrong way. I just had this weird idea, which I can't use in the review, but I'm going to run it by you anyway, cause I can. It's my diary.

Now if I say it tastes like eating your own scabs, that sounds disgusting, of course, but you also know what that tastes like, don't you? Because you probably did it when you were a kid. Surely I wasn't the only kid who did that. Maybe I'm romanticizing here, but as I recall the taste of scabs was not unpleasant. Kind of a sweet flavor, but savory and tangy, too. Kinda like spicy sweet chili paste sauce.

I remember my ex telling me the nicknames they had for the dorm cafeteria food at Y---. He told me they called eggplant parmigiana "elephant scabs." I can't remember the rest of them, but that one was pretty vivid.

Oh man, I'd better go do this dang review. Fuck! I'm loopy. My eyes are burning, I'm so tired. Want to think about anything but writing this review. Like right now, I'm thinking about the green peas in the cold salad I ate when I was smuggled across the salad---across the salad? See how tired I am?!---across the English channel with my friend Camille by a French truck driver. But that story can wait, I must work. I must burn the midnight lightbulb.

Oh my God. The dog just came up and sat right under my elbow and barked really loud. Just one time but I about jumped out of my skin. Crazy damn dog.

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