C-Style,

Tell those diabetic boot-wearers that they should check out Junior’s of Brooklyn (also located in the theatre district – Manhattan). A modest foodery serving overpriced American fair. Granted, the frying oil tasted fresh and the tuna salad was not over-mayo-ed, but nonetheless, I can’t bring myself to spend twenty bucks on a tuna sammy (tomato costs extra) and fries with a slice of strawberry shortcake cheesecake. My point is they proffer a diabetic-delight cheesecake… so there, problem solved.

In other news I made up a lie that I bought a beagle puppy and named it Humbert Humbert. Everyone here at B. Editorial was all: “Goodness, no, Benjamin! With the long hours you voluntarily put in here at worky-poo, surely!, you can’t properly care for a puppy, tending to its frequent need to excrete stuffs and filling its motherly void, and good god!, you keep it in a cage all day?� “Yes, about this big� {Ben motions with his hands, creating the sides of a box about the size of a loaf of bread.} “No! That’s much too small! Does anyone visit it during the day?� “No one’s scheduled to.� “Oh, for heaven’s sakes! What makes you think you could care for such a precious jewel of a cute adorable piece of dogness?� “Well… I had a plant for a few days and it didn’t die so why not get a puppy.� “I see flaws in your logic, Ben. Did it get its shots, where’d you get it?� “The SPCA. No.� “No!? Oh, Ben.�

Somehow there were certain levels of belief among my co-workers. Anyway, the lid got blown off the whole thing when I showed them a poorly Photoshopped pic of my room including “Humbert Humbert.”

Come up to NYC this weekend, tooters, and let’s go to Minca Ramen Factory.

-Ben