Sunday, September 7

I enjoy buffets -- I wouldn't say love buffets -- but it's a very reasonable way of eating out.

First week update from Brooklyn, leeching internet from someone in my building. Ain't life grand?

A few links of note:

-Have you heard of this one: Bare-breasted virgins compete for Swaziland king? Sad and amazing. Only negative: no pictures. Tasteless, I know, but who's ever accused me of that, taste?

-New roommate Ben directs me to "The Buffet Song". The basic premise is real people at buffets are interviewed, about buffets. Their words are then remixed into a techno-y song. Other than the odd faces made by the musicians, a great idea.



This video is perfect accompaniment to this piece in Hobart I recently read by Blake Butler, about what happens when you eat all-you-can-eat, for 14 hours straight.

NUMBER OF PLATES OF FOOD EATEN (GROUP): 102

NUMBER OF VISITS TO THE RESTROOM (GROUP): 30

NUMBER OF VOMITING ACTS: 2 (Both Farbod)

NUMBER OF TIMES THE WAIT STAFF SANG THEIR VERSION OF HAPPY BIRTHDAY: 9 (Including one for either me or Farbod, which I lied about in order to receive)

NUMBER OF HAIRS FOUND IN FOOD: 7

NUMBER OF STEAKS CONSUMED (GROUP): 13

NUMBER OF TIMES I WITNESSED A FATHER HELPING SON SHIT IN THE RESTROOM: 5

-And last, this fine piece by Tao Lin, also set in a restaurant.

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