Monday, June 12, 2006


The lousy Greek pizza isn't the important thing here. (It looks pretty good, but it wasn't.) This was the rare night that nothing was required of our food beyond it being mere fuel, for my dear friend Mr. Thowmbpsin and I were on our way to see Zappa Plays Zappa, and we were running late.

We did, though, have a nice beer and some sparkling conversation in addition to a thin but unforgivably floppy pie and a Caesar salad whose dressing had no detectable trace of anchovy. But what can you do -- we heard some of the most amazing music of our lives. Anyway, I'm still thinking about the rib-eyes.

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