Oh man, am I ever about to hit the reset button on this thing. Straight up b-more gossip blog, y'all. That's right, I got the SCOOP on what's really good in the syphilis capital of the world, and that mean that you, dear readers, will also be bare handing the proverbial dog shit that, like it or not, we all know you want to see, smell, and perhaps even taste. That is a gross metaphor, y'all. Sicky-von-tricky. To all the haters out there who say that mongering is a greasy profession, I say check the wall behind your couch backs, because we all know you let your soul glow, I am just being up front about it.

short arms

this dude has really short arms, I wonder what his deal is?

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napoleon dynomight at bbqbash

this guy was really freaked out by me. Prolly because I said, quite loudly, hey guys wait up a minute I have to get a picture of napoleon dynamite over there.

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highway muffintop

on a rainy Sunday afternoon.

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light rail weird

I take photos of people on the lightrail. I call this guy Leonard Di fatprio.

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Did you realize that your childhood is racist?

Case in point - Lady and the Tramp. Seriously guys.

this entry is from my droid so ill make it brief. i am moving furniture all day today. i like moving which i guess makes me the exception to the rule. not only does it fill my strenuous activity quota for the day, it also allows me to complete a necessary task using my body as well as my brain. this is an all too rare occurrence for me, as, during my daily grind, i am usually only called upon to engage my verbal and social intelligence. moving engages my kinesthetic, spacial, and interpersonal intelligence. I'll try to post some more later, as well as let you know about some free stuff i have to give away.

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Today's Ghost List will be about a new and exciting find (for me). This is for all my baltimore, mt. vernon oriented people, but hopefully, the rest of you find me entertaining enough to read in anyways.

Since my earliest fish experiences (store brand fish sticks in the toaster oven, heavy on the katsup), I have been wary of bad fish. It took me a long, long time to warm up to the idea of sushi, as having seen and handled raw fish, both alive and dead, the idea of putting one of those wriggling slippery, bone filled bastards in my mouth, sinking my teeth into it, tearing off a piece, chewing, swallowing, and not immediately voiding it in a projectile, chunky spray, was an idea that so churned my belly and mind that the last part of the act would nearly come to fruition if I even considered it. Nevertheless, I had the good fortune to go to the beautiful island of Maui when I was in my teens, and although the reason for my visit was bittersweet (more on this in a later entry), we dined one night at an local Japanese fusion restaurant, where the server, a particularly succulent orchid, convinced me with a well placed smile and lean to partake of her fishy delights (nonsexual). My best guess is that all the blood in my body was concentrated well south of my stomach, and so I did not react in my customary manner to the suggestion (see above: high pressure regurgitation).

In short, it was wonderful. I gorged myself throughly, as, at that time, I was a bottomless pit of hunger, to the point that was I was drain on my family's not inconsiderable resources by virtue of my food consumption alone. By the end of the meal, satisfied and not a little queasy, I was a full fledged sushi convert.

Baltimore boasts a few truly excellent sushi resteraunts, my favorite among them Sushi Hanna, a venerable institution located in Towson. If you haven't eaten there, well, frankly, I pity you. They have this deep fried cream cheese and yellowtail roll . . . but I digress. Try it. There other notables are Matsuri, located in federal hill, and Minato, in Mt. Vernon. My evolution as a sushi participant has evolved somewhat (but never fully) beyond the deep fried, americanized fare that was the main focus of my mania in my early years, to the more refined position of mostly partaking mainly of the Nigiri and Sashimi options. This is thanks in large part to the influence of a particularly excellent book by Trevor Corson entitled The Zen of Fish: The Story of Sushi, from Samurai to Supermarket , which enlightened me as to the finer points of sushi etiquette, history, preparation, and of course, parasites.

Raw fish is rife with parasites. The crawl upon the surface of your food, waiting for an opportune moment to get all up in you, and cause you grievous intestinal discomfort. All of the the things that go with sushi, from the ginger to the wasabi to the the weird bed of shredded cabbage or whatever that they sit sashimi on sometimes, are designed to neutralize or kill outright these invaders. The danger is multiplied if the sushi is not fresh, or if it is of low quality. It therefore pays to eat only at the best, most reputable sushi restaurants. Sushi, buffet, discount sushi, sushi on a monday (see anthony bordain's muckraking star-maker of a book, Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly, for more about that) are for me, anathema. So, when my good friend and co-worker, RC Chance, recommended Aloha Sushi in Mt. Vernon to me, I was deeply suspicious.

Aloha sushi is located on Charles street, just a block or two north of the celebrated Brewers Art, in a building which formerly house a truly abysmal British restaurant, the name of which escapes me. The acendency of Gordon Ramsay to the top of the culinary olympus aside, I find British food unpalatable in general, but to each his own. Soggy fish and chips and skunked bitters, however, are inexcusable in any context. Needless to say, it didn't last long, and in my mind, the building already bore the black spot of failure. When Aloha reopened, with a $1 sushi lunch option, I was beyond skeptical. I vowed never to eat there, ranted and raved about tapeworms and other intestinal interlopers, and generally got all up on my high horse, predicting failure within a few months. That the place has been there for at least six months spoke to its credit however, and lacking in funds and sick to death of Subway (eat fresh), I was convinced to give it a try. I must say that I have been very pleasantly surprised.  

The fish is fresh, flawless, and expertly prepared. Each order comes with free miso and what is without a doubt the best ginger salad of any sushi restaurant I have ever eaten in, bar none. And the price, well, its a dollar a piece. Can't beat that. My only complaint is in regards the poor quality of the chop sticks, which tend to be splintery and fragile, but that is a minor issue, and easily resolved by bringing your own. In short, and believe me, I never thought I would find myself saying this, I highly recommend Aloha Sushi's dollar lunch special.

Good Eats.

Nothing extensively strange happened yesterday, so I will leave off the journaling for the time being. Lets talk about politics and religion, and the cognitive dissonance that results from their collisions.

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Ok, lets not do that. Perhaps later.

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Alright lets talk about me and the stuff that I like. Todays thing that I adore is wasabi peanuts. Everyone here has had wasabi peas at one time or another, but this is what troubles me about those - they're peas. Peas suck. They are essentially tasteless, composed mostly of water and a greenish, stringy pea skin. They make lousy soup. If you like peas, fuck you, is what im saying. Go somewhere else and read.

Peanuts, on the other hand, are awesome. They are crunchy, salty, great raw or roasted or made into that amazing Thai sauce. They even make a great (cold) soup. Now, I will admit that wasabi peas are pretty good . . . as far as they go. But in my mind, I cannot escape the fact, that crunchy nose tingling outside aside, they are still mushy green booger balls. The wasabi is doing all the work, people.

Now, picture a peanut in your mind, larger and more satisfying than any mere pea, heavily coated in a white wasabi powder shell. It is about the size of a raisinette (sp?), so what the hell, picture of handful of these wizards. Imagine the feel of them resting in your palm, potential energy, potential sensory delight. Yes, I can see you have the image now, good job. 

Ok, here comes the hard part, toss one in your mouth, and try to remember what it tastes like. I know you haven't tasted it yet, but try to remember what it will taste like when you try some. . . . 

Ok, so perhaps just get a bag. I got mine at the meritt, but they would prolly have them at whole foods or traders joes or whatever.