Why have I lived this many years before realizing that hot buttered toast with cheese, sliced chilies, and tomatoes was the dinner of champions? It could also be the lunch of champions, the teatime snack, elevenses and breakfast of champions. It's elemental. It's basically pizza.
Of course a New Yorker would disagree with me (they invented pizza), and would suggest toaster oven half bagel mini pizzas instead. As made by their mom.
No, I've never been to New York. I might check it out someday once they've finally dealt with bed bugs in hotels and giant predatory cockroaches in apartment buildings.
I understand they've got some interesting stuff to look at.
Besides bagels and pizza.
New York is one of very many provincial burgs on the East Coast I should visit eventually. But everything they offer is available here, often better than the original -- possible exception being museum cheesecake and a selection of cheap cigars -- or can be flown in.
New Yorkers are probable averse to chili peppers.
And our barbecue is better.
That's probably a consequence of their being settled mostly by miserable refugees from the cold boggy wastes of the Olde Worlde after we Dutch invented the place, whereas California was founded by effete Latin churchmen with Iberian praedilections haphazardly enslaving the natives when they needed something done. Our society reflects a different and more keenly attuned philosophy of living.
Our homeless people and diseased drug addicts live a gay and carefree life on the streets of SF enjoying the sunshine. Their bums shelter in the extensive gothamesque sewer system and abandoned subway tunnels underneath the city, getting rained on and fighting the rats for access to clean water. While shooting up.
Someone should pay me to write a documentary about the place.
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