Tuesday, April 24, 2007

I'm number one!

At cooking chili. Some restaurants, bars and magazines hosted the 2nd Annual Taichung Chili Cookoff in benefit of "the orphans."

[This is a pattern. The 1st Annual Taichung Chili Cookoff was in benefit of "the starving children in Africa." I shit you not.]

Held at the incomprehensibly-named Soho Street area (which is south of nothing but Da Ye Road), many people brought the thunder to try and knock me off the mountain.

Last year, I took 2nd place in an absolute travesty of justice. I will not speak of it, as the memory burns still.

It burns like spicy chili, and I have no Tums.

My children will know only that when they say, "Second place in a chili cookoff", that Daddy will get quiet and stop playing and laughing with them. I will create secondary complexes in my progeny as an earthquake creates aftershocks.

Right, so last year I took 2nd and a bottle of tequila (which I, not being much of a tequila drinker, felt no shame in bringing to this year's cookoff to buy votes... a-hem...), and this year, this year was my year, kids.

Of course I won. The chili was good. See? Laura and Paula liked it.

Of course I won. Not that I knew about it. Ahhh, hubris, hubris, you frowsy slut. Why? Why did I think I could drink like I drank last year? I don't go to Fisherman's Wharf everyday after work for a pint this year like I did last year. My drinking arm is weak and untrained. Yet, I attacked my bottle of Screech as though it was something from the pits of hell itself, and I drank of its sweet nectar much like a vampire must drain the lifeblood from the throbbing carotid artery of a succulent virgin.

While I was cooking the damned chili, no less. Before I left my apartment.

My mind is a rich and fabulous treasure-trove of good thinkings.

Then, callooh, callay! Oh frabjous day! It's off to the cookoff!

Why, yes, I'd love a beer, thank you very much. Oh, you'll vote for me? Well, here's a shot of tequila for you, then. Well, yes, I guess I will have a shot with you, even though I normally don't. Hot-cha. Right. More beer, then. Jolly nice cookoff we're having, hey? Right on. Perhaps I should eat someth... what? Yes, I'll have another shot! Of course. Duh. Nnngh. And a beer to chase it. Grand. You know what I'd love right about now? Another beer! Tee-hee! What's that, darling? It's time to go home? But it's only 6:30pm! I... oh... I am loaded, aren't I? My heavens! Off we go, then.

SO, bed at 7pm it was, then. But I had a nice time anyway, and I won! Yay! Now I get to put a gold medal and a silver medal on my chili! Hooray for me!

When I get five minutes to myself (apart from the the five minutes I am taking right now), I will caption some pictures from Korea and show you what a lovely time can be had in Seoul. Soon. Very soon.

Oh, in other, not me, news, this is a Japanese commercial for the upcoming release of Resident Evil 4 for Nintendo's new super happy fun machine.

And, since I cannot take more than two breaths without refering in some way to the wonder that is living, there is a fantastically fun little flash game called Chick Chick BOOM that I demand you play immediately. Name your bouncing baby chickens and order them into battle. You are rewarded for defeating each of the 10 levels with a Nintendo-themed wallpaper for your computer. I feel this to be suitable compensation for having fun. Now if only someone would sell this game to me for my DS...

That is all for now. I love you all.

Now fuck off.

Love, Adam

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I will go to the there, to do the that.

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