36. Cafe Gratitude

It was a beautiful Monday morning and I was feeling especially responsible, so I got an early start and filed my taxes with months to spare. It went a lot quicker than I expected. So despite having a work meeting soon after, I found myself with about an hour to kill. I figured a coffee and a snack would be the adult thing to do in a situation like this. I looked around and assessed my surroundings - I had two options. One was "Lemonade", a uber-expensive deli which has great food at cringe-worthy costs. The second was "Cafe Gratitude" which I've heard is an earthy all-natural cafe. Seeing as it was 9:30am, I figured it too early for heavy deli food, so I treated myself and my wallet to Cafe Gratitude.

I'll begin by saying the hostess did not seem very gracious for me walking in - despite the cafe's name. Whatever, no big deal. I was seated and perused the surroundings. I have to say from what I've heard people say about Cafe Gratitude, I expected the decor to be a little more... ahem.... bohemian. There was nary the scent of nang champa nor a single book exchange shelf to be seen. Very curious. The decor was very corporate, all the tables and chairs matched and I'm pretty sure the place had been mopped using industrial grade chemicals as it was spik n' span. And my hostess did NOT reek of unshaven armpits seasoned by a week's absence of bathing.

It was only when I received my menu that the good old fashioned hippy freakout began. The first thing to jump out at me was the menu items. Everything at Cafe Gratitude is named with the prefix of "I am" followed by some dumb-ass hippy adjective like "Grateful" or "Blossoming" or "Centered." ...Shit.

I'm sure the brain-trust at Cafe Gratitude, Incorporated all enjoyed their massive circle-jerk when some vice-president pitched this idea. But all it serves to do is make you read the entire goddamn menu top to bottom trying to figure out what each menu item is. Oh, you want an omelet? Instead of looking for omelet on the menu you now have to engage in some perverse word-search in hopes that some paragraph in there somewhat describes what could be an omelet.

This pretty much sums up Cafe Gratitude.

Oh and here's the real nut-kicker - even if you read the ENTIRE menu an omelet would not be on there anyway as the whole fucking place is vegan. Surprise!

I should also mention that today just happened to be the day I wore my hockey trucker hat and my "Franklin BBQ - King of Texas BBQ" T-shirt...oh well. Despite sticking out like a turd in a punchbowl I decided that I am not above vegan cuisine. And I would show this faux-hippy corporate eatery that I would smile, order, and eat whatever shit they could concoct. I ordered the "I am Peace" with a cup of "I am Courageous".

For the human beings reading this, that loosely translates to a bagel with cream cheese, lox, capers, tomato, onion, and sprouts, and a cup of coffee.

Now here's where my idiocy comes in. I somehow naively thought vegan meant vegetarian. So here I am thinking "Oh sure, I can try a vegetarian version of lox, heck, I'm adventurous." Me so stoopid! So you can imagine my shock when my abomination of a meal arrived.

So out comes half a "bagel" which is literally as flat as an iPhone and has the texture of a deflated balloon. It's covered in "cream cheese" that looks and feels like coffee froth. And the "lox"? Well, that was seaweed. Literally, like 4 squares of seaweed. Any Jewish person who saw this would schvitz. Especially since you don't even get a full bagel. I don't normally take pictures of my food but you all should see this shit-show:

Not pictured: A bagel.

My coffee was served with almond milk and agave sweetener. I tried putting almond milk in my coffee once and it pretty much turned out the same way that you'd imagine jizz would if you put it into coffee. I learned my lesson, but apparently cafe gratitude thinks its totally normal to have white chunks floating around in coffee. I passed on the agave, the coffee was totally ruined and frankly it tasted like shit even without the milk.

The problem with Cafe Gratitude is not the fact that it's vegan. Rather, the mistake they make is thinking they can serve vegan alternatives to normal food. Vegan cream cheese? How the FUCK do you rationally think you can pull that off? You can't. And based on my meal, you didn't. The bagel felt like I was chewing on an old sock.

When you make the leap into a vegan diet, you're just going to have to face the fact that you're going to eat mostly vegetables. To think that you're going to enjoy a bacon-wrapped steak with cheese on bread that tastes exactly the same but magically without animal byproducts is insane. And do you think the owners of cafe gratitude give a shit about the planet? There's plastic galore in that place, along with god knows how many cleaning chemicals needed in order to meet the health code. Not to mention air conditioning a massive brand new building in the heart of Larchmont. But hey, it's okay, because you're eating vegan and that's all that matters. Who cares if it tastes like goat feed.

Name: Cafe Gratitude
Genre: Vegan Cafe
Value: Expensive considering you're entire meal is made out of rhubarb and air.
What You'll Need to Enjoy Your Meal: A personal stash of bacon.
Rating: 1 / 5

35. The Bagel I Had This Morning

It was pretty good - cream cheese, tomato, onion, lox, black pepper, etc. I give it 5 stars. What I really want to talk about is what I had to suffer through on my television this morning. I have Netflix streaming on my TV, which gives me regrettably poor discretion on movies that I'll watch. I've watched some pretty bad films, from the documentary about Monopoly to Wild Things: Foursome. Today though, I witnessed probably the worst movie that's ever been made - not just by man, but the whole of intelligent life in the universe.

Have you ever been playing on the internet and come across some link you knew was trouble? It has a title like "ManStepsOntoTrainTracks.gif" and tags which read NSFW or NSFL all over them. Then, lo and behold, you click it and it's a recycling clip of a man stepping onto some train tracks and getting hit by a train and his entire body explodes into a pile of guts and gore? You naturally get grossed out, then fumble to find your "back" button to exit, but haplessly miss it? Then all of a sudden the clip plays again. And again. And again. Then suddenly realize you're transfixed on this morbid display of human mortality? You're literally watching every second dissecting the events which could have led up to this horrible tragedy and quite simply you cannot surmise the strength to stop watching this man die? Pure, unadulterated fascination overtakes you as to who would film this, and why would they feel people needed to see it? Well, that's kind of what this movie was like.

The movie is called Monster Brawl and it's quite literally the biggest piece of shit I've ever seen. I could almost smell the shit smell while watching it.

 "But if it was so bad, why did you continue watching it?" You're probably asking. Good question.
It was, as mentioned above, like watching a car wreck. I was SO fascinated that someone would put so much effort into something that is so clearly bad. Centered around a wrestling ring in the middle of a graveyard, historic monsters battle it out WWE style - complete with clotheslines, body-slams, and the since-forgotten smack talk in front of a green screen. Really? REALLY? Yes, believe it.

The "story" if you could call it that, drags on. Each story-arc follows the same basic premise:

1) Introduce the two monster fighters via a short origin story (probably the best part of the film) For example, during the Frankenstein segment, they show a Russian scientist working on old Frankie, bringing him to life, and getting him prepped for his big match.

2) Show some hokey graphic of their vital stats as explained by two ring announcers who have some of the worst written dialogue I've ever heard. I'm just like, What the Fuck? Why is R. Lee Ermey talking to the Texas Oil Tycoon from the Simpsons about how The Cyclops has 10 more victories by way of knockout then does Zombie Man? I kid you not.

The best part of the film.

3) Have each creature slowly lumber into the ring and do their man-dance for the crowd that doesn't exist (never mind the cheering noises). This is commentated by WWE's own Jimmy Hart, who's standing next to two chicks in bikini's each holding a banner for their specific monster. I stand corrected by saying this was the best part of the film because you can see underboob on the model on the right. Each monster does this and it takes like 15 minutes. Plus it was on Netflix so it was pretty hard to pause the film and see prolonged underboob.
 
4) More badly-written announcer dialogue.

5) The worst choreographed "fight" in a "ring" that looks like it's been purchased 2 hours before shooting from a boxing gym. I'm no production designer, but wouldn't a ring that looks somewhat archaic be a little better than a black and red UFC training ring? Also, every time a monster would land a punishing hit, the voice from Mortal Kombat would boom out, exclaiming things like "EXCELLENT."  and "BRUTAL HIT." Oh, did I mention that these monsters are fighting for the coveted Monster Brawl Championship Belt?

6) 10 minutes of pointless follow-up usually involving the redneck announcers.

Sound boring? Well don't worry, you get to watch that exact same thing like 5 times. Then the movie abruptly ends and you've lost two hours of your life minus the 3 seconds you saw some underboob.If there were a contest for who could snort the most cocaine and come up with the worst movie idea, I still don't think the winner could top Monster Brawl.

The bagel, as mentioned, was good.

Name: The Bagel I ate while watching Monster Brawl.
Genre: Jewish food, Z-list film.
Value: An utter waste of time. 
What You'll Need to Enjoy Your Meal: A fast forward button.
Rating: 0 / 5

This F@cking Lady...

I thought I would share with you a recent review of my local self-serve frozen yogurt place. It's called Twist! and for the past 2 years it has been serving the community by employing 16 year-old kids from all walks of life. Let me begin by saying there's nothing special about Twist!. This is just like any other frozen yogurt place out there; you grab a cup, fill it, top it, pay for it, and eat it.

Anyway, I was in the mood for some late night frozen yogurt and looked on Yelp to see if it was still open. I was a bit taken back to see that a couple people had given this place 1-star reviews. The place practically runs itself, the only reason the poor kids are even working there is to make sure nothing catches on fire. Why did someone give this only 1 star? I read the following from "Stephanie P. from Los Angeles":

I eat fro-yo EVERYDAY. There's not a day I don't get fro-yo...and usually it's the carbolite brand. Last time I went to Twist was 3 years ago, before they moved. I got a coupon in the mail saying the new Twist carried carbolite fro-yo so I thought I'd swing by to check it out. Before I went, I called ahead to ask when they changed flavors. The lady who answered said "It's hard to say, I don't know...(some weird excuse)...it's hard to say." What exactly is hard to say??? Omg... that's a sign of a great yogurt place, right?

Anyways, I get there and immediately see the two flavors labeled "sugar-free". I ask the guy working there if those were the carbolites. He said "No, we usually carry at least one carbolite...but (long pause followed by him sampling yogurt himself) doesn't look like we have any today." So I asked when they will have it. Of course he has no idea but says, "Get the sugar free, there's like no difference in calories."

Are you kidding me??? The nutritional content of a regular sugar free yogurt and a carbolite are like night and day! This guy is seriously looking like an idiot now. There is nothing I despise more than when an establishment feeds its customers false information.

But since I drove all this way, I thought it would be a shame to walk out empty handed. So, I sample the belgium chocolate fro-yo (my favorite flavor). It was the MOST DISGUSTING fro-yo I've ever put into my mouth! It tasted like yogurt gone bad. How do you f*** up frozen yogurt??? I don't know how they managed to make chocolate taste like fishy metallic cocoa tap water, but they did! I walked out with a cringe on my face. Never ever ever ever coming back!

Ok seriously? What a fucking bitch. WE ARE TALKING ABOUT $3 FROZEN YOGURT. This pretentious cow has to be the most audaciously entitled idiot I've ever heard in my life, and that's coming from me which really says something. Class, grab your scalpels and let's dissect:

Firstly, let's look at here profile picture:

Immediately, three things jump out at me. The first is that this guy want's nothing to do with her. This sycophant looks like she begged this guy to take a picture with her - who as quickly as possible leaned down, let the shutter pop and got the fuck out of Dodge. She's basically doing a terrible job of making it look like she hangs out with moderately attractive people instead of her cat she so hilariously named Justin Tim-purr-lake. Second, she's in a club, which is a hotbed of faux entitlement. Clubs are where the poor pretend to be rich, and the assistants pretend to be the bosses. Simply put, she probably likes to be a bitch on Yelp because no one listens to her opinions in real life. Thirdly, it's a shitty photo, get it together girl.

So on to her review. She begins by stating "I eat fro-yo EVERYDAY. There's not a day I don't get fro-yo..." A little lesson for you girl, that's NOT a good thing. I don't know what planet you think you're from where you rationally think eating frozen yogurt with candy on top everyday is healthy, but it's not Earth. Remember that movie Supersize Me? Where Morgan Spurlock ate the same damn thing for a whole month and nearly died? Well, you're proving your idiocy by doing the same, then expecting that by demanding some variant called "carbolite" is going to save you from coronary heart disease? Please lady, eat some more and die faster, because your logic is killing me.

Also... YOU CALLED AHEAD? That's like calling ahead to a McDonalds and being like "Derrr....do you still have Big Macs?" This place, just like every single other frozen yogurt place, has the same damn shit: Fro-Yo, toppings, and a spoon. You should know this by now, everyday-ice-cream-machine. In my experience in life, there's two types of people; ones that want to be healthy and thus go jogging, and the ones who want to be healthy by doing every stupid thing besides exercising, ie eating "carbolite" frozen yogurt and thinking it's making them skinny.

Then, in another display if your idiocy, after calling ahead and asking for your prescription flavor and the clerk (who makes about $5.85.hour) saying, "I don't know, I just make $5.85 per hour and am making sure nothing is catching on fire." you still drive down, assuming your carbolite will be there. When someone says "I don't know", it does not mean "Yes." It means there's literally a 50% chance it will be there and a 50% chance it won't. Did you prepare yourself for possible disappointment? No, instead you drove daddy's BMW down there anyway (God forbid you walk, Ms. Carb-Counter) and throw a fit to the poor kid working there like your time has been ever so wasted. You should be GRATEFUL this poor kid even indulged your ridiculous request and attempted a response to it. JACK LALANNE DOES NOT WORK AT TWIST! Quit asking for health advice from a kid who works at a place that sells cheesecake chunks as a topping.

You think this kid even wants to help you?

I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt that you at least voiced your complaint to the worker. But I've got a sneaking suspicion that you huffed, got back on your bedazzled iPhone and instead just called him an idiot on the internet instead. That's probably the most classless thing you can do - to a kid even.

I would normally feel bad about totally ripping into someone like this, but these types of people make me sick. The only solace I get is knowing that going to Twist!  is probably the most eventful part of her other pointless day. I'm glad I never have to lay my eyes on your fat arms in Twist ever again.




PS: It's Belgian Chocolate, idiot. Not Belgium Chocolate. Quit feeding me false information.

34. Hallucinogenic Mushrooms

Sorry to my loyal fanbase of eleven for not updating this blog for quite some time. I'd like to think it was because I had a lot of important things going on, but honestly I just forgot. C'est la vie.

So it's been quite a long time since I partook in the spiritual rodeo of ingesting magic mushrooms. I believe college may have been the last adventure. I always remembered enjoying them immensely, even when things took a bad turn and suddenly your friend wants to call his parents while high as a kite and announce that he's dying. This time I'll try to evaluate my dining experience as I would any other restaurant.

Location: Magic Mushrooms are best taken outdoors as objects such as walls and ceilings have an annoying habit of becoming absolutely terrifying when you're under the influence. My trip took place in Joshua Tree National Park, an idyllic desert just outside Los Angeles county. Joshua Tree is beautiful even when not trippin' crazy balls, so trippin' crazy balls would only serve to accentuate such beauty. Parking was ample though reservations are suggested if you want a campground. My friend Chris and I chose to ride the magic carpet out in the backcountry, where your chosen campground is literally anywhere you damn well please. Chris's friend Isiah joined us for the trip but not for "the trip."

The Menu: When taking mushrooms it's important to bring items essential to survival, but even then odds are you'll feel so connected with Mother Nature that you'll idiotically throw you're pack (and possibly pants) over a cliffside thinking you'll never need such man-made garbage. In the pack you'll be throwing over a cliff, you should have a bottle of water, a compass, a flashlight, and maybe some bread. Instead of all that stuff we just had Isiah to make sure we didn't try and fornicate with a cactus and make sure we walked back towards the car at some point. Long story short, the menu consisted of mushrooms.



The Food: Mushrooms are grown in cow shit, and mushrooms often don't look far different than their poopy-parents. They look like how I imagine a REALLY old guy's penis must look like. To say these things look edible is like saying Julia Childs looks fuckable. I mean sure you could do it, if you REALLY had to, but...ugh. That metaphor is literally the best description of what eating mushrooms is like...it's like fucking Julia Childs. This is where having bread makes all the difference in the world. By making a mushroom sandwich consisting of one mushroom and 12 pounds of bread you might make the taste just a bit less vomit-inducing, but not much.

While tripping in Joshua Tree, this is the most awesome thing you'll ever see....

The Ambiance: When these little poison mushrooms finally kick in, get ready for fun. It begins with a loose feeling throughout your arms and legs and slowly evolves into you trying your best to not babble something incredibly insane. Being in nature helps because odds are the only people around you are also trippin' and trying not to say something equally as insane. This usually results in massive giggle fits not dignified for most men. This is pretty much what happened to me. At some point you have profound levels of appreciation for nature, while other points you can't stop crying from laughter because someone said the word "butt." The next 6 hours or so are spent exploring, laughing, staring (lots of staring), falling, laughing, bleeding, walking, driving, snacking, laughing, and questioning the universe until at some point you shake your head and realize, "hey, I'm not high anymore."

...or this might be more awesome.

Overall Critique: For a relative cost of around $10-$20/person, you get a full day's worth of entertainment and you'll eat little to no food. As long as you don't have one of those unstable friends who actually thinks the world is melting, you'll have a great time. Would I do it again? Maybe, once I find my pants.

Name: Magic Mushrooms
Genre: Produce
Value: Excellent. $10-$20 buy's you a full day of retardation.
What You'll Need to Enjoy Your Meal: A cheese slicer in which to scrape off all your taste buds.
Rating: 5 Pink Elephants.

33. Movie Theater Concesscions

Life used to be simpler in the United States. A family could comfortably sustain itself on a single income, blue-collar jobs were there for people who wanted them, and the American Dream was more so a right then a disillusion. When we think of a simpler American life, we imagine neighborhood backyard bbq's, wives kissing husbands as they leave for work, and teenagers sharing popcorn and sodas at the local movie theater.

While these concepts are mere nostalgia now, movie theater concessions are one of the few things that have hung around...or have they? During a recent boy's night out (plus Brian's lady, bringing the total female tally up to 2, because Brian is a bitch for bringing a chick to boy's night out) we went to go see "The Raid: Redemption."

The Raid is a balls-out action fiesta hailing from Indonesia. Don't like subtitles? Don't worry, my friend, you'll have to suffer through about 4 minutes of total dialogue in the beginning, then the fists do the rest of the talking. Seriously, this was nonstop ass-kickin' the ENTIRE movie. Premise? None. Deep characters? Nope. Riveting plot devices? Nada. Broken fluorescent bulb jammed through a bad guys neck? You bet!

All you need to know about The Raid is that there's this building right, fifteen motherfucking stories of building. What's in this building you ask? Good question. Evil. Evil is all up in this motherfucking building. As it stands, evil has got this big ol' unkicked ass, just chillin'. But do you think the motherfucking Indonesian SWAT team gives a straight FUCK? HELL NO. Indonesian SWAT is so about to run up into this building and kick every single motherfucking ass in there. Evil karate guy? Decapitated. Evil little kid? Strraight up shot through the neck. Evil drug manufacturers? Shattered spine. The list goes on.

I am getting ahead of myself. So anyway, here we are, with like 20 motherfucking Indonesian SWAT just thirsting to kick some ass. At first they all try and be like "Shhhh, let's silently kick some ass." BUT this motherfucking evil kid decides to cockblock that idea by spotting them and going all haterade and screaming to the other evil dudes that the cops are there. Strike one, Junior. Have a bullet to the neck. Anyway, now the jig is up and about 40 minutes of gunplay ensues. A good amount of people die  in this opening battle, both good and evil. This sets up the basic storyline of the film: You killed my homies, now I'm coming to jam a fluorescent bulb into your neck.

At this point in the film all the guns seem to magically disappear. Like literally every fucking gun just up and vanishes. No worries, because guess what? In this building of pure evil, every crackhead, rapist, murderer and reprobate knows 3rd degree black-belt karate. Also, you might be wondering what these evildoer's 2nd-most ideal weapon of choice is behind the M-16 machine guns they usually use? You guess right! The garden machete.

So here we are now in this building full of evil machete-wielding karate masters and the like, five remaining Indonesian SWAT are in bad shape and only on the like 5th or 6th floor. And though it seems like all hope is lost... guess what? THE COPS KNOW KARATE TOO.

The star of "The Raid: Redemption"

HOLY. FUCKING. HELL. Shit is about to go down.

Before I go further, I should explain that the cops would clearly know karate because there's a 10 second montage in the beginning where the main cop is doing hella situps, pushups, and knocks around a punching bag. There, now we're caught up.

So anyway, the cops also know karate. The evil guys knows karate. What's missing? Correct. One or two REALLY evil guys. I don't want to divulge too much, but suffice to say, the really evil guy kicks all the asses. God, he is probably the most ass-kicking guy I've ever seen in my life. Anyway, at this point in the movie the really evil guy is busy kicking ass and so are the cops, and at some point you just know they're both going to have to meet up for one ass kicking showdown. But for now, the viewer must relax and enjoy some good old fashioned Indonesian SWAT-kicking-regular-evil-guy-ass.

The fighting in this movie is mind blowing, and I would be shocked if one or two stunt guys didn't break their spines while filming. The rest of the movie is a lot of crazy motherfucking fighting where the SWAT guy engages in some form of disarming the bad guy's machete then brutally killing him with it. It's a classic Hollywood plot device called irony. You also don't feel bad for the guy dying because he's evil and there's lots of him.

So then finally the movie ends with the mother of all fight scenes. I would love to tell you every graphic detail, but it's SO absolutely fucking amazing that even attempting to retell it in text will cause both the author and reader to shit themselves in testosterone-laden delight. It's so freaking amazing. Greatest fight scene in the history of film. Period.

My friends and I left the theater high-fiving, laughing, and attempting to reenact some of our favorite moves from the movie. It was one of the most enjoyable movie experiences I have had in a really long time.

Oh yeah, where was I? Right. The food at the theater was expensive so we snuck in candy from outside.

Popcorn is expensive at the movies nowadays

Name: Movie Theater Concessions
Genre:  Movie Theater Concessions
Value: If you like being sodomized by flaming hot jagged rocks, you might consider this a value
What You'll Need to Enjoy Your Meal:  The Raid: Redemption
Rating: 3 / 5

Yelp

Yelp, America's one-stop shop where anyone who's anyone comes to be the world's greatest food critic. Waiter looked at you cock-eyed? Yelp that shit, girl. Ordered no cheese and the fuckin' motherfucker straight CAME WITH CHEESE? Oh no, Yelp that shit too girl, fo' sho'.

Yelp was once a glorious website which gave you a general idea of if a place was a must-try or a total skip-out. I admittingly have written over 10 reviews of places and have nearly 6 friends on Yelp. I was in balls-deep. But lately Yelp, not unlike MySpace, has gone the way of "It's so popular it's now uncool to think it's cool."

People on Yelp nowadays loooooooove to think they know more about food then they actually do. News flash, just because you eat a lot of food, doesn't mean you know about the complexities of the human palette or even what umami means. If you got served food made out of day old dog carcass, then yes please, Yelp it and let me know. Do you think the flavors weren't rounded enough to create a sufficient yet luxurious medley of pan-Asian fusion cuisine and are thus giving the place 3 stars? Well, fuck you. You've successfully ruined Yelp.

"My Yelp reviews pertain to your interests."

The inherent problem is that there's no filters on Yelp to extrapolate out reviews which are pertinent to you, the user. A 19 year old asian girl complaining about the lack of a dancefloor or them not carrying slim margaritas is not a review I care to read when I'm trying to find a place to enjoy a cold beer. If Yelp could somehow get better at this then it might be able to return to the glory days of yore. But as it stands entire businesses which might have been serving whole communities for decades suddenly get caste as dives because some idiot thought the place sucked because they "didn't get bottomless soda."

Reality check, people: A restaurant doesn't get negative stars because they don't carry something you like. If your service stunk, your food was cold, and you were overcharged, then sure, write a bad review. Otherwise, understand the unwavering fact that a)you're not going to like everything and b) no one values your opinion.

Yelp still has it's value as a hub for people to bitch about places they hate. Which to most, is some good reading. People sometimes write some really funny things on Yelp which I love. I'm also a fan of the anecdotal reviews where the author takes you on a journey through the meal. But outside of a recreational amateur fiction forum, I stopped paying much heed to the star-rating on Yelp thanks to arrogant blowhards who think they can trash-talk a meal that someone has dedicated their lives to perfecting.

You ever notice how Guy Fieri (the bleached hair guy from Diners, Drive-In's and Dives on Food Network) goes into all these restaurants and NEVER has a bad thing to say about the food? He literally loves ALL of it. He would even eat the napkin and compliment the chef on a job well done. That's because he's not an arrogant prick who thinks he's more qualified to judge food then the person who cooked it. He simply accepts the fact that that the chef, through years of trial and error, has created the best possible dish to serve the public. Yelp, on the other hand, does the exact opposite. And that's why all of America loves Guy Fieri and hates your Yelp reviews.

On a small tangent, I tried googling "famous food critic" because I don't know of any. It turns out there aren't any. This includes you, Yelp. 

"BAM! You're an asshole, Yelp reviewer!"

32. Tacos Por Favor

Tacos Por Favor, to me, is like the Tijuana of Mexican food places: big, dirty, and full of white people. I'm not sure when and how it happened, but Tacos Por Favor has become the entertainment industry's hub for Mexican lunch.  I think there must be a lot of production and post-production studios in the area, because when you walk into Tacos Por Favor you'll feel like you stepped off a plane that accidentally landed in Sweden.

You can immediately tell that the customers here work in TV because they all have the exact same attire. For guys, it's the short cropped hair, ironic/"vintage" T shirt, jeans, and bright colored running shoes as of yet to be used for running. The girls, if not dressed exactly like the guys, are close to it with the exception of possibly thick glasses and horribly unkempt hair. Everyone in line is discussing "Oh...so what's good here?" Like they've never ate a burrito in their fucking life, and once they're finally seated, everyone yammers on about things like "dailies" and TiVo'ing "The Wire."

A tried-and-true method of determining the quality of food at a restaurant is to take the genre of the food (we'll say Chinese for example) scour the place and tally how many people of said ethnicity (Chinese) are in the restaurant eating. If there is a sizable amount, anywhere above 30%, then odds our you've found an authentic place to eat and refer friends to.

Tacos, anyone?

Well... Tacos Por Favor has literally 0% Mexican people. In fact, it has literally 0% ANYTHING besides white people. This indicates two things to me: 1) It's expensive, and 2) It's trendy. Both are true. Tacos Por Favor is in no way a bank-breaker, as an average lunch will cost under $10. The problem is that it's damn near impossible to spend under $7. The higher-up's at Tacos Por Favor know that white people have an unflappable aversion to a la carte items. A normal Mexican dude has no problem buying two tacos and calling it lunch. He's full  and will usually be set back around $2. Good deal. But if you try and buy any a la carte item at Tacos Por Favor, it will be at least $3 per item. Meaning, a two taco lunch at Tacos Por Favor will run you at least $7 after tax. The mexican's say No!

The white people say Si! They don't know any better. And the owners of Tacos Por Favor know that if there's a whitey nomming away at his lunch, he's undoubtedly spent at least $7. The food isn't bad but certainly nothing to write home about. The burritos are small and mediocre. The tacos are pretty decent, but like I said, cost $3 each. Also, since there's literally 50,000 white people both in line and eating, you need to wait for a long time to get your food.

I won't hate on the quality of food, it certainly isn't terrible, but it isn't great. Also, when eating ethnic food, I feel the ambiance has a lot to do with the overall experience. And when you eat at Tacos Por Favor, you feel like you're in a shitty bar in Tijuana filled with white people from San Diego who are trying to find out where to score some Xanax.

"Yo brah, we're totes here for some, like, menudo."

Name: Tacos Por Favor
Genre: Mexican
Value: Reasonable for Whiteys
What You'll Need to Enjoy Your Meal: A sweet pair of Asics and a thorough knowledge of "How I Met Your Mother".
Rating: 3 / 5

31. BevMo!

BevMo! (formerly Beverages and More) is a veritable liquor wonderland. If you move into a new neighborhood and tell all your friends, "Hey, I just moved into a new place, it's half a block down from a liquor store, come check it out." They will look at you with a forlorned look that can only be described as a combination of pity and concern. But watch as you're friends squeal with delight when you tell them, "Hey, I just moved into  a new place, it's half a block down from a BevMo!," You're social status increases at least 25 points and you'll automatically be slotted 2 spots up on every friend's totem pole.

Well, the same thing happened to me just this past month. I moved about 2 blocks away from a BevMo! and immediately I began shopping there regularly. It's everything it's advertised to be - a superstore of nearly every type of liquor under the sun. Before I was even unpacked, I was mixing Manhattans and sampling microbrew beer from bottles with corks.

I have nothing but good things to say about the selection at BevMo! There's so many varieties of everything that you literally begin exhuming the dark recesses of your brain for memories of random brands you might have tried when you were 23 just to see if they are on the shelves (They usually are).

Now...one might think that the world's greatest store would also have that world's happiest employees, all of whom work happily, effectively, and efficiently. Sadly this is not the case at all. This might just be the BevMo! near my house, but everytime I've gone in there it's been the worst customer service on the planet. Here are some small anecdotes from the three times I've gone to BevMo! thusfar:

Example 1: "The New Guy"

We've all been there, first day on the job and literally no clue how to do anything. I will give this guy credit in that he confidentially informed us that it was his first day and to bear with him. This guy was the quintessential example of how you imagine a pizza-delivery guy in the movies: naive as shit, constantly picking at his face, and basically fighting countless internal battles each minute to not royally fuck everything up. Insecurely giggling to himself every time he hit a key on the register like it was his first time using a keyboard, he "rang" everything up. Or so he thought. It turns out nothing was rang up. There was a discrepancy on a price as well, to which he replied. "Huh huh huh, oh man, ok... I've seen this done like 20 times..lets see...*picks up phone receiver and hits a button* ...price....check?" It clearly didn't work. So what does genius do? He does the exact same thing again. And again. Surprise, it still doesn't work. Finally he just tells his co-worker, who's just standing there 15 feet away, to check the price. After it's all sorted, he again fails to ring us up properly and also fails to apply our ClubBev member discount. 20 minutes and three employees later, we're finally rang up.

Example #2: "The Unwanted Visitor"

You can't help but feel sorry the mentally deranged. Never really being more than a threat but more so an obscene annoyance to us normal folk. So while paying in BevMo! A delightful old maniac walks in, trenchcoat and all, looks around, and decides THIS is the spot for him to explain to the world the minutiae of oral sex. Apparently, according to the wise old coot, that while oral sex from a thin-lipped woman is delightful, it might actually be BETTER from a thick-lipped man. I am grateful for this piece of sagely information, because I might not have ever known this. But instead of realizing he touched my life at that moment and his work was done, he decided to repeat said information again, LOUDER. Then again, and again, getting louder and more confident with each go-round. As funny as it is (it really was) at some point I would have figured one of the BevMo! employees would step in and take care of things. I was wrong, they ALL stood there gawking, jaws agape, measuring their own lips to gauge the thickness. It was pretty ridiculous. Finally after a good 5 minutes of this guy going bananas, the smallest, meekest, female employee tiptoes up to him and politely asks him to leave. Shockingly, the man quiets down, smiles,, tips his hat, and leaves. Every single large male in the store still standing there like cornstalks doing nothing. This whole hilarious debacle could have been avoided if any employee did their job and just immediately asked the guy to leave.

Example #3: "Stoner's Pot Palace"

Weed is awesome. But stoned BevMo! employees remind us all: Don't mix weed and booze. I'm generally forgiving of new employees, but if you opt to go to work stoned then you should be damn sure you can still operate at the same effectiveness as when you're sober. If you can't, then don't. While waiting in  a massive line to checkout, this employee who looks like B-Real's cousin blissfully walks past all of the disgruntled customers without any thought of opening a new register. The frazzled checkout girl finally manages to break away from the madness to physically escort this kid to a new register and have him check us out. I ask him if I can enter my ClubBev member number directly in myself, to which is blurry red eyes blink uncontrollably. "Sure." I started hit keys and nothing is happening. "Are you sure this is working?" I inquire. "Maybe you can just enter it in for me." He starts blinking his red eyes again. He starts hitting keys when I start reciting my member number, alas, nothing is happening again. Jesus fuck, get your shit together, kid. I fially just give him my card and we start checking out. He scans literally every item, completely oblivious that no item is actually being entered into their system. I ask "Hey man, the screen still wants you to confirm customer number." Obviously baffled, he scans the keyboard for a solution to fix this. Needing to rescan the items and having him forget a couple more in the basket, we finally pay for our 5 items, 17 minutes later.

In conclusion, I don't expect exceptional customer service from an entry-level employee, but common sense is always expected. Come to BevMo! if you want an amazing selection of booze, but stay to witness employees operating at a near-drunk capacity. I immediately drove to the DMV after just to get better customer service.

Name: BevMo!
Genre: Liquor and Spirits
Value: Reasonable prices, ever-increasing frustration.
What You'll Need to Enjoy Your Meal: Hella time.
Rating: 3 / 5

30. The Vine in Niles

The odds of stumbling across The Vine in Niles will be not unlike opening up a briefcase and finding this. Surprised? Yes! Disappointed? No way! This is how I felt about The Vine, a quaint, newly- opened restaurant in the Fremont, CA suburb called Niles.

I'll begin by admitting a couple things: 1) I've been moving apartments and dealing with holiday obligations and thus have no been updating this site very much, to which I apologize. And 2) My sister opened this restaurant herself so I purposefully drove the 400+ miles north just to go to it. Familial connections aside, I'll do my best to not give it undue credit.

THIS IS THE BEST RESTAURANT IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE!!!!!!!!

Seriously, it's really good. I'm very proud of my sister's hard work in this venture, and it shows with the final product. Yelp reviewers all love it, and apparently they pulled a VERY substantial profit in their first month of business - literally unheard of in the food biz.

Located in Fremont, CA in the small suburb of downtown Niles, The Vine serves contemporary cuisine prepared by executive chef Annie Wood, a lifelong friend and co-owner with my sister. While Annie is charged with all things edible, my sister handles all finances, vendors, front-end operations, and literally built most of the furnishings by hand.

Before I discuss the food, I believe the "town" of Niles deserves some attention. Niles is one of those communities that, to an outside viewer, looks like everyone has the same two parents. I don't mean this in the retarded, incest-driven hillbilly sort of way. I mean that everyone dresses the same, makes roughly the same amount of money, and every citizen can communally discuss last night's episode of WWE SmackDown!! on TBS.

The residents of Niles decided they needed a downtown strip, you know, a place to put all their old, unused furniture and clutter. 10 years later this unused furniture morphed into 17 antique shops, 12 glass-art studios, and 6 silent movie theaters. A quaint downtown indeed. They even added a magical train of lights which pulls in every hour or so to the delight of the ignorant rednecks who've never seen multiple light bulbs amassed in a single location before. True magic!!

"Dale, something aint quite right 'bout that train."

Meanwhile, the Niles residents plum-forgot about actually building any restaurants or cafe's on their downtown strip. This is why my sister and Annie decided to build a place where townsfolk could bring a date, have a drink, and discuss the unholy practice of using contraceptives.

Now, onto The Vine itself. As previously mentioned, the ambiance is delightful. My sister (a sheet-metal worker by trade) designed and built the floors and tables from scratch. Furnished with chic ornaments and tasteful accents, The Vine reeks of class and is a great place to take a date or to have casual drinks with friends. Even the bathrooms are tastefully done. You could seriously eat to the point of explosive shits and screams and still comfortably relax on the toilet without feeling the pressure to vacate ASAP. Oh yes, and they also have a covered back patio for weekend drinking.

The food is amazing in terms of taste and also price. A meal for four with 4 appetizers, 1 salad, 6 glasses of wine, 4 cocktails, 4 main courses, and a shared dessert all came to a meager $127!! And everything we got was fantastic! I've put a link to the Dinner Menu so you can get a good idea of the type of food. Also, there's a drinking friendly Brunch Menu for weekend warriors/drunken housewives.

I got the the point where I could literally feel my stomach pushing into my other vital organs. My breathing became slow, short, and deliberate as my fully expanded lungs would only compress my bloated belly further. Even so, the food was so good that I would still periodically make lame attempts to digest a fry. The food is unbiasedly good, I promise.

The service was top notch and even when the restaurant became packed, (as it does every evening, apparently) we still received ample attention. Even the people waiting to eat were directed to sit on a massive comfy couch and were served drinks while they waited.

This place is great and worth the short drive if you're ever in the San Francisco Bay Area. Every person I watched exit had a smile on their face and a contented look of someone who was too full to do anything like want sex or free money. Utter bliss personified in each customer. Well done, sis!!

 

Name: The Vine in Niles
Genre: Contemporary Cuisine
Value: Fantastic Prices for Quality Food.
What You'll Need to Enjoy Your Meal: An empty stomach and an exaggerated interest in glass art.
Rating: 6 / 5

29. Chipotle (in Brentwood)

(This review isn't for Chipotle as a restaurant, as I'm sure they offer the same food and same basic decor in every Chipotle nationwide. This write-up is for the Chipotle located on San Vicente boulevard in the Los Angeles community of Brentwood.)

Ok, so it's the middle of the day on a Monday. I really want to stress this. IT WAS 1:12PM ON A MONDAY. There was no national holiday, no free giveaways, just a regular Monday. I walk into Chipotle and immediately I smash into the back of a guy waiting in line. The line was around the entire F'ing place!! This sucks!! Thankfully Chipotle does fast work so I manned up and took my place. I decided it was a dandy time to people watch. Here's what I noticed:

1) Everyone was on their phone/PDA.
I don't know about you, but people don't call or text me THAT much, and I consider myself pretty dang cool. But the people in Chipotle were staring at these things like they had porn on the screen. We've all done that thing in a bar where you pretend to get texts so you look like you're busy, but this is a freaking Chipotle people, no one is going to judge you if you're just standing in the line without looking busy.  People couldn't detach themselves from their phones long enough to even put in orders. Seriously a guy got so bored between the steps of choosing rice/beans and then his selection of meat, that he got back on his phone and started staring and texting. The lady had to yell "Sir...SIR!!" like 4 times before he goofishly looked up to reply "Oh...uh...Chicken." and went back to his phone (no apology given, either.)

2) Everyone was wearing Tom's.
I'll be fair, not everyone. But 12 people in one place. That's a whole lotta Tom for one building. Tom's shoes basically look like a house-slipper knitted by a Mongolian sheepherder. The gimmick with Tom's shoes is that for every pair purchased, a pair of shoes is given to some poor kid somewhere without shoes. Not a bad deal, I suppose. But you know what's an even better charity then that? Actually donating time and money. But the yuppies in Brentwood don't do that because they don't get a pair of trendy-ass Tom's shoes with that deal. Here's an idea, asshole. How about buying a pair of basketball shoes and just giving it to a kid in need. That way the kid has something he can actually run around in and not look like he's some douchebag in a Brentwood Chipotle. Everyone wins.

3) Everyone bought burrito bowls.
For the people who aren't familiar with these things (normal people), its a burrito. But instead of the edible holder called a tortilla keeping your burrito together, the contents are dumped into a bowl, covered with an aluminum lid, and put into a plastic bag with a plastic fork and knife. Way to go, dipshit, 10,000 Tom's shoes aren't going to replace the oodles of garbage you've just created because you think that by removing a tortilla  you're going to get skinny. Hey Jillian Michaels, you do realize that just because you've cut 18g of carbs  doesn't mean you're carnitas bowl with sour cream and a handful of cheese is going to make you fit into that dress. It's called exercise, and it's not an app for your iPhone.

4) Yup...Yuppies!
Every single person in there was a Yuppie. Yuppies of today aren't your Growing Pains' Alex Keaton types of the 80's. They take on many varieties but can all easily be classified under the same umbrella. Here are the types I saw:

A) The I-Mean-Business! Yuppie:

 These guys always seem to be named "Chaz", "Chet", or "Ryan", and are forever trying to attain the unattainable look of "I dress up for work, but I secretly keep it real on the weekends." They make lame attempts at coolness by wearing ironic sunglasses, loosening their ties, putting a surf sticker on their laptop bag or producting their hair into some sort of faux-hawk. Their life solely follows the almighty dollar and they always want people to think, "Look at that guy on his phone, he must be closing a big-time deal." The irony is that most of these guys make less than we do and don't actually own a surfboard.



B) The Stressed-out Lady Yuppie:

These Yuppies are probably the most hilarious. Despite the fact that their parents pay for the majority of their Brentwood rent and that because they don't hold a steady job they can spend all day in yoga pants traipsing around San Vicente, they act like they have the hardest life on the planet. Everything they do is an incredible inconvenience for them. They will talk to one another about the 3 errands they have for the day like it's equal to a full day of manual labor on the railroads. Also, they are incredibly anal about everything, from their Chipotle order, to their reusable coffee cup they always carry, down to their yoga mat which they don't use because they just wear the pants because they're comfy. Watch their eyes, they are always jittery, its creepy. The world and it's populace are just accessories in their little Sex and the City reenactment they like to call their lives.





C) The Gay Black Yuppie:

 I would imagine in the deep-south of Kentucky, it must be hard to be a black male, let alone a gay black male. But this is Brentwood, and he's not fooling anyone. The Gay Black Yuppie always has 2 or 3 Stressed-Out Lady Yuppies in tow because they both like to talk to each other about how miserable their lives are, despite the fact that they're all in $400 outfits having a social gathering in the middle of a weekday. They spend the majority of their day on social networking sites or in the absence of that, rehashing their past exploits on social networking sites. The Gay Black Yuppie always has a disgusted look on his face and thinks his outfit and life are 1 billion times better than yours. Enjoy your pink mohawk, jackass. I'm going to spend my savings on my mortgage, not a $600 faux Chinese army jacket. He also doesn't have any black friends.




The Metrosexual Yuppie:

The Yuppies are the most anal of the bunch. Meaning, if you get caught behind a Metrosexual Yuppie in line at a Chipotle, give up and go get pizza because you'll be in line all day. These guys will literally make the poor kid behind the counter remake an entire burrito if he see's one bean fall into his burrito, with no regard for the 200 people behind him. The Metrosexual Yuppie will typically be in designer sunglasses, some sort of gay-looking bowling shoe, a v-neck shirt, sporting some awkwardly placed large tattoos, and be holding a PDA and a set of car keys in his hands at all times. To these guys image means everything. If you ever go into a Chipotle and see one of these guys order something that's NOT a burrito bowl with chicken, no beans or rice, no cheese and no sour cream, then watch out, because you're either on Punk'd or the Twilight Zone.

5) Everyone stares you down.
Talk about an insecure bunch. Everyone in their stares at you like you walked in there wearing a Nazi SS outfit. But they do that to everyone, not just you. It's indicative that despite their privileged lifestyles, they still having crippling insecurities about themselves and their outward appearance. Chill out, everyone! It's just Chipotle! Just let me eat my burrito without the leering eyes of 20 people all over me.

There was one guy in line, however, who was in a T-shirt, cargo shorts, and flip flops. He order a steak burrito straight up, paid, and left. He seemed pretty cool.

Name: Chipotle (in Brentwood)
Genre: Yuppie frequented Mexican flavored excessive waste bowl dispensary
Value: Reasonable for a Burrito, expensive for the Tom's you must purchase to enter
What You'll Need to Enjoy Your Meal: Tom's shoes and a smartphone
Rating: 2 / 5

28. The Chill Out Cafe

I was supposed to write about this place probably a good 6 months ago. But due to a bitter, long-fought battle with laziness, it took me this long to finally churn this out.

The Chill Out cafe is a rustic little joint located in the eastside surf community of Pleasure Point in Santa Cruz. Already known for their laid back demeanor, residents of pleasure point are rarely in shoes and wreak of stale ocean water. The Chill Out cafe is not unlike the cafe version of a Pleasure Point local - Relaxed, friendly, and quick to strike up a conversation.


I was making a brief stop in Santa Cruz and decided to meander in for one of their amazing breakfast burritos. I should stop here for a moment to talk about the breakfast burritos. Simply put - these things are more delicious than a bacon wrapped ice cream sundae. They truly are amazing. The burritos are cooked with three different customers in mind:

A) The hungover post-college student who, after a long night of weekday drinking, desperately needs any meal thats burrito sized, cheap, and greasy.

B) The surfer who's regular diet consists of breakfast burritos for breakfast, burritos for lunch, and most likely a burrito for dinner.

C)  Someone who's a solid mix of both A & B.

Basically, you walk into the place and odds are you'll either be greeted with a friendly "Good morning!" or an inquiry about the current surf conditions - depending on how wet your hair is. You'll usually engage in about 3-5 minutes of idle chit-chat before the girl/guy at the counter finally realizes that you've come in to the Chill Out for food. They offer about 35 different types of breakfast burritos here, all of which are fantastic (I've only had about 7 different ones, but I've heard 100 different critiques on pretty much every different one on the menu, all positive.)

I ordered the small.

One of the main features of the Chill Out cafe's Breakfast Burrito is the shredded potatoes. The cook leaves a pile of shredded potatoes on the griddle all day, slowly cooking them to the point where all that's left is crunchy, greasy strips. Delicious! Also what's great about this place is that you can order a small or large sized burrito. But I don't think the cook knows the difference, it's merely a pricing option for those who can't afford the large. Because both burritos are exactly the same size... massive!! Awesome!



Top your burrito off with all-you-can-eat pico de gallo and park yourself at one of the indoor stools to finish of your conversation with the cashier or head to the front or back, both of which have benches for ample chilling and people watching. Oh yeah, it's bottomless coffee too.


This place is great because its well-priced, has amazingly tasty and filling food, and has a kick-back atmosphere that most places can only try to fake. Everyone here, from the cashier to the cook to the patrons, all are very "chill" and immediately when you step in you forget your worries and just relax. Oh yeah, and this isn't one of those "Lets let every hippy yahoo play an open-mic and sip their divine boiled barley root while they collect signatures for a city ordinance to create a harmony circle downtown" kind of places. This is a place for people who like meat, the beach, and chilling. It's a surfer paradise, perfectly located with the perfect ambiance. Well worth a stop if you find yourself in Santa Cruz.

Very Chill.

Name: The Chill Out Cafe
Genre: Cafe specializing in Breakfast Burritos
Value: Great especially when you order the small burrito.
What You'll Need to Enjoy Your Meal: A long night of binge drinking, followed by a morning of heavy pot smoking, and a pair of flip flops.
Rating 5 / 5

27. Jello 1-2-3

If you're anything like me at all you'd absolutely know what this stuff is. This is Jello 1-2-3, quite possibly the single greatest invention of the modern era and maybe of all time.

Here's how it works:
1) Pour ONE packet into a bowl ( Note: Only one kind of powder inside!)
2) Add water
3) Put in fridge
4) Practically piss yourself in amazement as the Jello now has THREE Jellos!  Alchemy at it's finest!

This is the kind of forward thinking stuff that made America thrive in the 80's. Bring back Jello 1-2-3 and kiss America's economic problems goodbye. You heard it here first.

Keep trying, Shake-A-Pudd'n.

Name: Jello 1-2-3
Genre: Magical Gelatin Dessert.
Value: More expensive than regular Jello, but the extra layers provide 3x the return.
What You'll Need to Enjoy Your Meal: Extra pair of pants for when you crap yourself in amazement.
Rating: 5 / 5

26. Chapman Plaza

If you find yourself feverishly lost in Koreatown, Los Angeles during the day, you'll think you've somehow been transported to the minimum security sector of hell. The place is dirty, ridden with traffic, terrible drivers, and a gaggle of signs advertising who-knows-what by some big-tittied cartoon character.


Patience is a virtue, friends. Trust me, give yourself until about 8pm and you'll truly see how and why Koreatown comes alive when night falls. Watch as the neon signs hum with life, bums are transformed into well dressed Korean socialites, and streets lined with broken, garbage infested 1984 Toyota corollas are somehow swapped for shiny new Mercedes and Bentley's.

K-town at night reminds me of what Hollywood must have been like back in the 50's. Amazing bars weren't posturing with big lines, and people who mingled together actually "networked" and made things happen. You smoke cigarettes? Well fuck, if you're a paying customer, smoke all you like in any restaurant in K-town, where the customer reigns supreme.

K-town by day.

K-town by night.

Chapman plaza is probably the easiest place to go get a slice of K-town life. As it's the home to about 7 bars, 3 lounges, 5 Karaoke clubs, and a hell of a lot of young Koreans acting the fool. It's also ground-zero and all directions are in relation to Chapman Plaza. The place is lit up like a Roman Candle inside and everything is spectacularly clean and presentable. Last night we ate at Gaam, a Korean bar/lounge for my friends birthday. The inside is frankly stunning, and rivals any high-end lounge in Hollywood. The major difference though is the price. Two large bottles of Grey Goose, unlimited chasers, 5 entrees, Soju, and 4 large Sakes, all served with attentive service ran a group of 10 about $40 each...amazing value. Also, not packed.

The key to enjoying Chapman plaza and frankly all places in K-town is to roll deep, ie bring a lot of people. The more people you bring, the better value it will end up being. The other trick though, is to bring a couple Koreans with you. If you come to Chapman plaza sans Koreans, you'll be a lost and bewildered kitten as most places will gladly seat you, but deciphering a menu and being able to talk with most waiters will be a stressful exercise in humility. Also, you wont be able to read the signs of the places you're going into anyway.

Also, the locals knows the awesome deals. Here are some things I've found out in K-town only because Koreans showed me-

1. A bar that lets you buy bottles of booze for roughly $80, and will write your name on the bottle and hold it for you for a month. Meaning its ready for you on your return visits.

2. A deserted 3rd story mall storefront that, upon gaining secret entry into the mall and even more secret entry into the club, serves a 24-hour full bar and nightclub.

3. A bamboo-lined 24-hour Korean restaurant with cigarette smoke so prevalent that you feel like you're an extra in Ladder-49. Also, booze served 24 hours.

4. A social scene so tightly knit that if rolling with the right crowd, no bartender will charge them for a drink, ever.

5. A club that only allows entry with special permission from the waiter, of all people. and when inside, you're free to summon any and all girls from the dancefloor and your beckon call to mingle. (good luck if you only speak English).

That's just a tease of the K-town underbelly. The place is really fun.If I had to make any real complaints about the nightlife, is that you pretty much have to pay for parking anywhere you go if you plan on driving around. But it gets better, chums. If you opt out of driving, you can call whats called a "K-town Kab" that is a gypsy tazi that will take you anywhere in K-town for $5 a trip. Amazing! Need their number, you can find it on any of the FREE lighters liberally given away at all K-town bars...stock up! PS: Odds are if its a phone number and Korean written on your free lighter, its a K-town Kab. (Hopefully they speak English)

I suppose I should give quick consideration to the food in Chapman plaza and K-town. It's good, but if you have a western palette, a lot of the stuff is weird and frankly, gross. You need to have a good Korean interpreter with you to sample some of the finer foods, lest you end up with Hot Dog soup (real thing). But with that said, if you're sick of the Hollywood scene and want to meet real, fun people in a fun setting then check out Chapman plaza. Bring cigarettes.

PS: Valet is $2 and worth it.

Name: Chapman Plaza
Genre: Hub of Koreatown; bars, lounges, clubs, restaurants, etc.
Value: Expensive, sliding scale the more people you bring/Koreans you know.
What You'll Need to Enjoy Your Meal: Cigarettes and Korean Parents.
Rating: 4 / 5

25. Big Ass Fruity Drinks

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24. McDonalds

 
Ok, I'm sure you've all heard of the holy fast food gateway lined with the double golden arches. So I'll spare you the details of giving you the McDonald's  M. O.

It was 3:47am, I was driving home from a long night of Sunset Strip clubbing (something I don't often do) and I was incredibly stoned (something I DO often do.) and I thought to myself "I hate fast food and I especially hate McDonald's. It's really a shame that their constant proliferation in low income communities has caused such morbid...."

At this point in my thoughts I found myself puling into the drive-thru. Shit, they got me. Also...why do they insist on spelling it "Drive-Thru?" Does McDonald's really think that little of the literacy of it's clientele. Granted, the reading level of most customers is terrible, the least Ronald McDonald could do is spell it's copy correctly so at least everyone would walk around spelling "through" correctly.

Anyway, I had a moratorium on Mickey D's for about 4 years now, and for the life of me I probably couldn't tell you why I found myself perusing the menu at what was now 3:49am (probably the drugs) but I commited myself to getting something. I was perusing the menu when the crackly half-english voice came through the intercom.

"*chk* Weerrrcome chhhhsssssss McDonalds caahaannnn *chk* please?" 

The nonsensical jabber made no actual sense but I assume he was asking what I wanted to order.

"Yeah," I replied, "Can I get a..."

"*chk* Hoooowwwd own *chk* One secccc *chk*" The robot stated.

It was nearly 4am and apparently there was pressing business that couldn't wait in the empty McDonald's than to be bothered with a paying customer. So I politely waited.


*chk* *chk* *chk* *chk* *chk* *chk* *chk* *chk* *chk* *chk* *chk* *chk*...... it sounded like the guy was hitting the button like 5000 times. What the hell was going on in there? The pot started getting the better of me and I began to think that maybe I was hearing things. I tried ordering again.

"Hi, I'll have a..."

"*chk* HOLD ON SARRRR!!! *chk*"

"*chk* *chk* *chk* *chk* *chk* *chk* *chk* *chk* *chk* *chk* *chk* *chk*" the box kept on clicking.

Finally after 7 long minutes of sitting there listening to the McDonalds employee type Morse code, he finally took my order - a "Southern-style" chicken sandwich meal and two McChicken sandwiches as a supplement (I was hungry.)

Preach it, Grandma.

I pulled my car around to the pickup window and proceeded to wait...and wait....and wait....and...holy crap, waiting more. What the hell are they doing in there?

I kept waiting, I think about 5 songs played before I got my food...it took 15 minutes at the window before my food came out. Granted its 4am so I expect there to be a bit of delay with my fast food, but it was ridiculous.

The Fries - The fries were right out of the deep fryer so they had that super crispy texture to them. They were also scalding, also courtesy of the deep-fryer. While I will admit I enjoyed the crispy texture, they tasted like deep fried air. People (idiots) claim to love McDonald's fries. for the life of me, I can't understand why. Those people must also Ke$ha, Jasper Johns paintings, and the song "Who let the dogs out?". If poor-quality had a physical manifestation, it would be the McDonald's french fry.

The Diet Coke - Don't worry, the irony is not lost on me that I ordered a "diet" coke with my deep fried chicken sandwiches. I only took one sip and it tasted like the syrup was sitting around for a while. It was 4am so I'll give this a pass.

The Southern Fried Chicken Sandwich - This was basically a chicken patty with butter and pickles. I'd never had it before but it appeared to basically be a half-step up from a regular chicken sandwich. I love how the deifnition of "Southern-style" means no vegetables. The hilarity was half the reason I bought it. Verdict: far too tendony and the buttery flavor didn't mix with the chicken right.

The McChicken Sandwiches - These were probably the best thing I bought. I held the mayo because for some reason I've never liked it. But the bun was fluffy, the lettuce was not too abundant and the patty was slightly crispy and had a decent taste to it. I don't want to pretend like it wasn't shithouse quality, but of all he things I got this was the only thing that satisfied my marijuana induced hunger.

Above all it was and always will be a big waste of time going to McDonalds.... especially at 4am. I ended up getting crappy food and waiting forever for it. I should have just went to bed. Though eating did give me something do to while I drove around Koreatown for the next 40 minutes looking for parking.

Name: McDonalds
Genre: Fast food burger joint run by a clown, bird, convict, string-monsters, and a giant purple blob.
Value: Better off saving the $5.
What You'll Need to Enjoy Your Meal:  A heavy stock investment in McDonalds Industries.
Rating: 1 / 5