Sunday, July 30, 2006
mecca
it is 3am.an insatiable craving for hot waffles with macadamia ice-cream drizzled generously with hot chocolate fudge overwhelmes all rationality.
maybe a seafood crepe in creamy saffron sauce or a ceasar salad with grilled seasoned chicken bits will do the sinful equivalent justice.
all the goodness in the ungodliness, pancake house is mecca.
a restored church with a neat touch of medival gothic charm where nocturnal beings of every imaginable types - geeks, misfits, goth eccentrics, asian chinks, engage in social intercourses.
you might not know, there is an undeniably eerieness in the basement washrooms. a friend was once spooked by an old lady, period.
eat, drink, men, women.
so sipping lattes at la dolce vita on milton was unfateful. i couldn't tell if it was the irony of la tour d'eiffel, the absence of mr ferrari or being upstaged by a cosmic coincidence with quentin's rather loud female friend who later dominated the majority of the male company. oh well, thank god for no dramatic goodbyes.
fuck at 3:04 AM