Frog in Garlic Sauce

Unless your name is Rachel Marcus and you happen to come across homeless men hell-bent on attacking you morning after morning after morning (one would think that one might find a new route to work if attacked by the same homeless guy every goddam morning), life tends to follow the usual pattern: birth, childhood, adolescence, high school, drinking, college, maybe some drugs, work, dating, serious dating, serious drinking, more work, maybe some more drugs, marriage, having kids, more drinking and more work, maybe another one or two kids, spending a lot of time thinking about how much fun you used to have before you had kids, more drinking, more work, retirement, and a lot more drinking

After all that, you usually die.

I mean, unless your name is Paris Hilton or Tommy Lee, that’s pretty much how it goes, so when you come across things or people that fall outside far outside your day-to-day circle, you tend to take notice. These are the things you tend to talk about over dinner, like this douche bag with his shaggy hair.





If you scroll down the page, you can read all about how I feel when it comes to grade school or high school kids with hair like this kid’s hair. I spotted this dipshit in a Barnes & Noble a few weeks ago as he stood there, checking his Blackberry and waiting for an overpriced ice coffee.

Really, the biggest favor I could’ve done for this little pussy was throw him down a few flights of stairs although considering I’ve reached the married-and-now-have-a-kid-on-the-way part of my life, going to jail and getting sued for assault is not exactly what I need right now.

Apart from that dipshit, I took a spin down to Chinatown about a week-and-a-half-ago as I needed some spices that were unavailable in the supermarkets around here. What did I find not far from the front door?

Frogs, my friends. Frogs stacked upon frogs, all of them quietly waiting for the imminent deaths.



Of course, we’ve all heard of frog legs on menus, although I was under the impression frog legs were considered a delicacy in far-away places like Paris . . . and Los Angeles. Have you ever seen General Tso’s Frog or Frog Lo Mein on any menus when you’ve sat down for Chinese food? I haven’t either, so why the hell are they being sold in Chinatown like lobster? I mean, look at this poor sucker--he’s gotta realize he’s about a day away from a hot wok.



Speaking of Chinatown, when was the last time you spotted an Asian chick with fluorescent pink hair? What the f@ck?