Ohhhh Kayyyyy, we're gonna scratch Houston off the list of chinatowns to visit.

It's not that she's cute.

It's about how much meat she can fit in her mouth.

I don't believe in buying software that's used to pirate dvds, cds, or other software.

Karmic law says you should pirate that software too.

What's the deal with vegetarian chilli?

I only want enough non-meat in my chilli to allow me to get away with calling it something other than "saucy ground meat".

1. Almost everything tastes good deep fried.
2. Everything tastes even better with bacon.
3. You should try deep fried bacon.

Addendum: top that deep fried bacon with bacon bits.

and cheese.

Maybe it's just my youth speaking here, but the candidates for the US presidential race seem really weak this time around. Though Gore vs Bush jr. wasn't much of a show either, the candidates right now aren't giving me great hopes.

The only candidate I do have respect for seems to barely show up on the radar despite being a smarter and more reasonable man than most of the other options seem to be.

But then again I'm just a canadian and electing intelligent, reasonable people has not been a strong point of the US citizenry as of late.

I have a habit of sitting around with a hand under my chin and my fingers hanging around my mouth and tapping my lips or the tip of my nose (or of course, when I'm sure no one is looking, right up my nose).

Because of this I'm also a habitual hand washer, well aware that anything I touch has a good chance of entering my bloodstream otherwise. When I see someone pee or push brown in a public washroom and leave without washing their hands, I shudder.

Let's examine the scenario:

1. buddy (not really my buddy, but we'll call him that) places hand on cock.
2. buddy's hand touches bathroom door handle.
3. my hand touches bathroom door handle.
4. my hand touches my mouth.

In only four degrees of separation we have his cock and my mouth meeting, which for me is quite unsatisfactory.

So the next time you're in the washroom and decide that washing your hands is not worth those ten seconds of your life, imagine what I'm gonna be rubbing all over your keyboard the next time I catch you.

My domain name has been hijacked to use as the sender of various spam lately, so I'm getting a lot of 'returned mail' emails that I didn't send in the first place.

So while I actually do email people asking them if they'd like a rock hard erection that lasts four times as long, unless you're a particularly cute girl who gave me your email address recently, I probably didn't send you that one.

[00:52] Lt. Nick 'Goose' Bradshaw: i really want to eat a bowl of chicken flavored Mr. Noodles
[00:54] taz: i love the "oriental" ones
[00:54] Lt. Nick 'Goose' Bradshaw: do you think they taste like me?
[00:55] taz: yes.

Working in the industry that I do, I've become fairly sensitive to the overuse of some stock photography.

So now when I see a certain guy in print advertisements, I'm reminded that not only does that guy have chlamydia but he's also in need of debt consolidation counselling.

At least he looked as equally concerned by both scenarios.

I have an unhealthy obsession with Top Gun.

If I found the right backers or ran into a wall of money I'd probably open up a Top Gun theme park with men-only beach volleyball courts. I'd even hire Kenny Loggins and Cheap Trick to perform live shows.

At the bare minimum, I'd love to find a theatre that will show Top Gun so I can fill in that gaping hole of my childhood.

Nothing as overtly gay as Top Gun has ever formed a fan base of so many straight males.

Average Joe is totally awesome.

What's particularly rad is the fact that these guys talk about how they want larissa (the mega hot babe) to look past the fatness, the receeding hairlines, the social retardation and awkwardness to find the really great guy inside.

Why aren't these dudes finding the fat chick with the heart of gold? Because this chick is way hotter.

I'm at least willing to concede that I'm a shallow bastard (I blame it on my scorpio sign) and have a particular affinity for fine looking women. Especially fine looking women who love to eat.

I made the conscious decision to pay more money and buy a few items from London Drugs rather than the Walmart upstairs from it.

Considering I'm not struggling to make ends meet, the extra 10-15% I paid was worth the more pleasant shopping experience. The idea that I'm supporting a locally owned company instead of an american megamart also made me feel tingly inside as if someone had just shoved my sonicare toothbrush up my ass.

Walmart's wrestling ring environment isn't something I look forward to have further invading my life and neither is the chance to buy 10lb bags of nutmeg from costco along with my 4 Gallon jugs of Sunny Delight.

That London Drugs is the only place I can think of where you can buy both condoms and an iPod doesn't hurt it in my books either. (yeah, I love my iPod that much)

Brain samiches.

I'm chinese and I still won't eat that shit.

You really shouldn't let my misogyny stop you from sleeping with me.

As fast as I can type, I like putting pen to paper and writing real letters. Real paper. With a real pen. A black pentel hybrid gel roller to be precise.

I haven't written anyone a letter in a terribly long time, particularly because the internet is so damn cool and fast and e-Everything.

So email me your physical address with a few words of note and I'll see what I can do.

[15:25] zerlina: i had a dream about you last night
[15:25] zerlina: you were my brother
[15:26] coop_pork.jpg: did we make out?

Wow. Google is awesome.

Has anybody ever considered what might have happened if MacGuyver was evil instead of good?

He probably could have killed the president with a can of coke, a pack of pop rocks and a bendy straw.

Now I'm just itching to find the gateway to bizarro world.

Seems coop now considers me as one of the "least worst" eligible bachelors she knows.

That's hot shit.

I can't be the only one who was terribly disappointed upon first learning that mincemeat pies were just filled with a bunch of sweet junk and not any form of real meat.

While my ability to jumpkick myself in the face and put my feet behind my head are the big party tricks that everyone knows about, it seems my body has taught itself another less publicly known but extremely handy trick.

When in the company of women my body shuts down gas production, no matter how many barrels it's been outputting all day. Upon leaving the company of said women, it naturally resumes.

It's not conscious, and I don't clench my ass cheeks together or anything to assist. It's just this amazing natural phenomenon I've noticed lately. Human evolution rules.

My acute insomnia lately isn't helped by the fact that I'm currently strung out on red bull from my vodka combos this evening despite popping a nytol over an hour ago.

I seemed to have shrugged it off and I'm kept up by this fever of mental activity (none of it is being used for good unfortunately) which also prohibits me from doing anything useful either.

I'm currently arguing with coop about the best movie matchup for Meg Ryan. She says billy crystal (when harry met sally), while I know in my heart that it should be tom hanks (joe versus the volcano) but I gotta give it to anthony edwards (top gun) because he's the gooseman.

yes, I am this stupid in person as well.

Hip and/or trendy vancouver restaurants seem to be competing with each other in their culinary vapidity.

Every menu seems to have the same nut encrusted scallops, maple salmon, or wild mushroom pasta. Balsalmic reductions are just about the most boring sauce you can serve now, and subtle flavors mean nothing if there's not at least one bold one in the spotlight.

Even the menus in this year's dining out event elicited more yawns than gasps.

Luckily the ethnic options here in town are still plentiful and my chance to taste somebody's grandma's cooking is not more than 20 minutes in any direction. Even when the recipes are as old as time itself and the presentation is basic, the execution always brings me back.

(best meal this week: a $6 nabeyaki udon at honjin on a cold snowy day)

So far the only people I've heard that actually want the new ipod mini are people who only want it because of how cute they are, despite the fact that they're actually totally fugly.

I'll pay the extra $50US and get 11gb more storage and something that actually looks cool.

Oh wait, I paid $600 6 months ago for something that now costs $399. Steve Jobs, I fucking hate you.

Due to my passion for cooking, people often ask why I didn't become a chef.

Simply said, it's because I'm a wussy little baby that can't handle the tough life of a cook. I can't work 10-12 hour shifts in a hot kitchen under pressure while cutting and burning myself endlessly.

I like cooking because I get to stand around my kitchen and chat with people who then gush about my food and stroke my ego.

These soft hands of mine are a byproduct of sitting at a desk and typing all day. They're fast and limber. Ladies...

I'm glad that when I'm feeling really down on myself, I can cheer myself up by watching average joe.

Not because it makes me think that average guys have a chance, but because I feel so far above average when I see the contestants.

Due to diner requests, I've added a page where I'm posting some of my recipes or food concepts.

I'm a seat of the pants style cook and I improvise a lot, so the written recipe isn't always 100% accurate to what I do. But take the flavor ideas and run with it.

From the IM logs:
unnamed friend: some chick on friendster just asked me to come over to her place. said she would give me "the best blow job i've ever had". that's pretty awesome but sounds sorta suspicious. it's probably a dude or something.

One of the odder gift ideas I saw during the christmas season were the rather large signs in the window of the Yaletown Cosmetic Surgery office suggesting gift certificates for people.

I'm figuring many people might not find that to be the most flattering gift they've ever received.

I rung in the new year with my oldest and closest friends who I've known and loved for over half of my life.

My brother and I prepared for them an eight item menu that featured:

Smoked salmon and boccaccini salad
Roasted potato and leek soup
Portabellos stuffed with shrimp, topped with a roasted pepper garlic butter
A 7 lb prime rib, aged 6 days and slow cooked in clay
Blue cheese / feta and spinach stuffed roasted chicken in two flavors
Red wine sausage and pumpkin penne
Tomato and basil penne
Mashed yams with cinnamon w/ brown sugar crust

Tina concluded the evening with apple pears poached in orange juice and allspice, topped with ice cream.

Somehow though we all ended up watching jackass dvds into the new year. There seems to be something quite celebratory about seeing people getting hurt.

Addendum: And the reviews are in:
Birdwings: thank you for making dinner, it was the best meal i ate in 2003. my only regret was i didn't vomit so i could eat more