24 May 2012


A few years back Russ bought me a tiny lemon tree because of my unhealthy passion for lemon tainted foods and lemonade. The thing grew into this grotesque abomination that's shaped like a 4 fingered hand, inch long thorns, and I'm lucky if it gives me one lemon a year like it's giving birth to something that looks like a lime (I won't eat it because I think it's going to look like a balut egg inside).

gay foodies sure love shoveling in food, I get at least 15 invitations in my e-mail a week for events around L.A. Now I feel all this pressure to attend at least one event or risk having my knuckles slammed in a door by "Sklar" (a fat Chinese man with a name that sounds like it belongs to middle aged woman who looks like Dyan Cannon and designs windchimes for beach houses).

My lemon tree in human form.


  1. HAHAHAHA! a balut egg. Too much! You should go to some! Your posts after would be hilaripus!

  2. SKlarp must dance the dance of the Balut Egg or wither and die like the seasons!

  3. Me and the lemon tree have an understanding, I leave it alone if it leaves me alone. The bark is the same thickness as the branches and the middle "tentacle" all of a sudden grew 3 feet taller in one night. I should put it out of it's misery like a 2 headed baby.


I eat your comments with jam and butter.