Lazy Moe's BBQ

This post is going to be a short one. There's not much to be said about Lazy Moe's restaurants here in Melbourne. The servings are large and the food is decent.
I had the BBQ Mix - plenty of bacon, pork ribs and other assorted meats. There was also a family-size serving of chips underneath the meat, a half tomato (grilled) and a cup of BBQ sauce, ready to pour. The tomato was a nice touch.
It was a lot of food - I managed to finish off the meat and some of the chips. Unfortunately, I had to consign the rest of the chips to the lining of Lazy Moe's garbage bags. Or maybe the staff took the left-overs home for dinner, who knows?
I give Lazy Moe's BBQ mix, two weary forks up.

Chocolate Pizza at Bimbo's

So, it's a Saturday night and we're hungry. Sure, we're on Brunswick Street but that doesn't necessarily mean that we have to go to Red Tongue. Nor does it mean that we have to go to Bungalow 8 or 8 Bungalow or whatever the hell it's called. So Huw makes the decision - we go to Bimbo's. He must like the name.
After asking a couple girls on the street why they're wearing crates on their heads, we go inside - it's relatively quiet and there are couples and small groups eating food off plates. That's a good sign.
"Where should we sit?" All of the four-seater booths are occupied
"I don't know. Over there?"
"Ok."
We sit at a rickety table with four chairs around it. On the table are two sticky menus. One side of the menu has a list of beverages for sale and the other side has a list of food - almost all of them are types of pizza.
For several minutes we examine the pizzas on offer at this fine culinary establishment and comment, "Oh, that looks good," or, "That's looks interesting!"
NO. They are not good and they are not interesting! Why? Because at the bottom of the list are four Dessert-fucking-Pizzas! THAT is good! THAT is interesting!
I don't care what type of fancy fucking cheese you put on a pizza or how far away the salami came from or how special the fucking sauce is! If you put CHOCOLATE or BANANA or APPLE or MIXED BERRIES on a fucking PIZZA, then THAT is INTERESTING!

So, I ordered the calabrese pizza and the chocolate pizza.

The calabreze was good, a bit thin but reasonable for the price. The dessert pizzas were cheaper but also smaller. And chocolate on pizza, while it sounds rather stupid, actually works. It's not like someone's just gotten a regular pizza with cheese and ham and mushrooms and capsicum or whatever and then whacked on some chocolate. It's a proper dessert pizza with chocolate and marscopone. For comparison's sake, it's like having pancakes with chocolate sauce.

Chocolate Pizza at Bimbo's - two forks up!

Eventitude

turns his head, first to the left and then to the right. As he exhales he drops his cigarette on the ground, without bothering to extinguish it - the mud will do that job. Reaching into his pocket he fishes out his coin. For this man, every decision is easy.

- Heads I go North.

He nimbly flips the coin, catches it and with a flick of the wrist, places it on the back of his free hand. Tails.

- South. Fuck. They'll be expecting me.

Hesitating for a moment, he considers the outcome. Perhaps he should flip again? No. The coin has decided. He turns to his right and starts marching through the mud.

Eventitude

either side. The ground is starting to become muddy and the man knows it will just get harder to walk along the dirt road the longer he simply stands around. With a deep drag on his cigarette, he

Eventitude

swallow, yet large enough for us to taste. And so, on that premise, let us continue.

A cigarette hangs from a man's mouth. It remains alight, even though it continues to rain. It's amazing what sheer persistence can do. As he takes a deep drag he surveys his surroundings. Nothing of note here. He is standing on a dirt road, with thick bushland on

Eventitude

backstory, and precisely contrived character flaws. Nor do they ride off into the sunset to live happily ever after. They are simply a bite from the continuum; small enough for us to

Eventitude - a story of parts

don't really have a beginning, do they? People don't burst into existence with a neatly packaged

Eventitude - a story of parts

an arbitrary point in time. After all, stories

Eventitude - a story of parts

most stories, starts at

Eventitude - a story of parts

story, like

Eventitude - a story of parts

The

(You'll see where I'm going with this soon)

Broken Glass

Looking up I see nothing but blue sky
The people who come here must see this as paradise
But you only get to know a place
If you stay for more than two nights

And I find myself missing all the things I used to hate
I guess it must just be in my blood by now
I miss the light and the crowd
But most of all I miss the sound

The sound of traffic
The sound of cars crossing tram lines
The sound of panic
The sound of not enough time

Yes, the rumours are true.