The Mountain of Meat

All good things must come to an end. I think Jesus said that. Today my moms (*_*) departed for home. The little girl is heartbroken. She knows her days of being spoiled have wound to an end.

Now it is again the Treacherous 3: Big Daddy (*_*), Mommie Dearest (*_*), and little Rapzilla (*_*).

Last night we dined at Carne Station, know colloquially as the 'Mountain of Meat' by teachers I used to work alongside with.

And, boy, was it ever meat-tastic!

Spare-ribs:


I doubt that Shirley Temple's estate (she's dead, right?) would allow her name on children's handbags, but I'm probably wrong. After all, Omar Shariff hawks everything from umbrellas to cigarettes; and even Drew Barrymore is pimping Baskin Robbins ice cream. Anything is possible. Welcome to the 21st century.


Yours truly. PlEase note that my face is red nOt because I'm DruNk, but because I played basketball for 3 hours yesterday afternoon. And because I'm half-drunk. The infamous gochu face returns!


My wife and mother took the little one to Burger King shortly before meeting my by the Tancheon river. I have no idea where the headband came from.

Tomorrow: my list of the top 10 TV sitcom sidekicks (preview: Cockroach from The Cosby Show narrowly defeats Mike Seaver's friend Boner from Growing Pains at no. 1)