Weekend Update

Alright kids,

10/27/08: Pink's in Hollywood

Sorry for the lapse here, but the last few days have been long. We were down in Hollywood staying with our friend Marky Mark and his funky sister (I mean funky in a good way here), who was also in town, to go to a funeral for another friend. Funerals make for 1.very intense days, 2.not at all fun, 3.not much time to hang out and chill, and 4.especially not much time to go out and eat. We did get a little trip in to a place that another friend had also recommended (Thanks BFW)...Pink's Hot Dogs in Hollywood.

Pink's has been operating since 1939 and is a serious cornerstone of Hollywood cuisine. And when I say 'cuisine' I am speaking of drunken, over the top food that would kill the average man, woman, or goat. It's everything bad about good food, good about bad food, and in no way, shape, or form healthy. Let's be clear, eating this meal took 3 years off my life...and it was worth it. It's actually very reminiscent of the old Cheesesteak shops in Philly. There's always a line, and this time we were fortunate that we only had to wait 10 minutes, unlike the 45min-over an hour that is more normal.

Let's get to it: I ordered the Polish Pastrami Swiss Cheese Dog. Holy Mothra this was huge. Maria ordered the Bacon Chili Cheese Dog, which looked like a lake of nacho cheese, under which there was a subterranean lake of chunky chili, and somewhere down at the bottom I think I saw a hot dog peeking through. I believe the only purpose of the bun was to act as an earthen dam for the nacho cheese. Oh, and we got a side of fries. Mark got some stupefying burrito-thing with two hot dogs, chili, and Alf knows what else inside (maybe that was Alf inside?). I don't even remember what Bridget got, because I was so enthralled with the challenge in front of me. Mine was a HUGE spicy polish sausage, topped with a ridiculous pile of pastrami, a few slices of swiss cheese and onions...you know, I thought I'd be healthy and get my vegetables in too. Oh yeah, throw on some bacon strips, some spicy mustard and ketchup for full effect.

The first bite was amazingly delicious. I believe the pronouncement I made was, "This is f!ing fantastic!" I guess I said it a little loud cause a few other tables of people seemed to look over at me. Like kids haven't heard that word before...we're in HOLLYWOOD bitches! I inhaled the first half of the beast, and the pastrami was amazing, just bloody amazing, rich, deeply grilled, tasted almost smoked, and suuuuper salty. Mark warned me about the spice in the spicy sausage and damn...that with the spicy mustard made me mop my brow a few times. I just couldn't get over how good this tasted. I mean, seriously, everything I had had up until this point made me think that meat eaters were a bunch of scruffy nerd herding lounge lizards that should be shot on sight, but now I get it. Not with bullets, please, I'm vegetarian remember? With tranquilizers, and then written on with sharpies, and sprinkled with spray on glue and glitter...what was I talking about...? Oh right, so everything up until this point was bland and...pointless. This was PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE TILL YOU BLEED FROM BOTH NOSTRILS (DON'T EVEN THINK OF STOPPING AT ONE), GIVE YOURSELF A BLACK EYE WITH YOUR OWN KNEE WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK OFF YOUR ASS KICKING LIKE A SHOWGIRL, SLAP YOURSELF IN THE FACE UNTIL YOU ARE SOBER deeeeLICIOUS.

There were a few side effects of eating this meat lovers wet dream of a hot dog (again, the use of 'wet dream' and hot dog in the same sentence probably should have been edited out, but instead I chose to highlight the fact). First, I had the distinct feeling that my head was going to explode. It was like I had just downed a 72 shot latte. My whole being was vibrating and I believe at some point I stated that I felt like I just wanted to kill something (I felt a little crazy like Ozzy...come to think of it, maybe Ozzy's live bird eating days had nothing to do with drugs like everybody thinks, but an unshakable addiction to Pink's double chili cheese pastrami dogs).

I believe the feeling I experienced after downing the majority of this meal may be what some refer to as ROID rage, but this was a 'natural' form. It had been 17 years since I had consumed this much meat so quickly and I think my pituitary gland just started spitting out testosterone like a fratboy puking after finishing off a bag of pork rinds and pony keg of natural light. My brain literally hurt as it tried to escape from my head (ha ha, brain, your attempts have been foiled again!). Again, more people staring...actually, when we got up to leave I remember seeing a group of guys sitting near us (15 feet away was way too near us this evening, and Mark even chose the most far out spot to sit in the parking lot patio) kind of move out of the way making sideways glances at me as I was leaving...I think they were scared of me for some reason...thanks Ozzy. Mark, Bridget, and Maria, my cohorts on this Meat mission, were very amused, and I'm pretty sure that had a doctor been present I would have immediately been rushed to the hospital.

Goddamn was that a good hot dog.