(As usual, all too pithy, for the sake of brevity) Observations.

The instant gratification of Facebook has thwarted my blogging efforts. 

Or possibly my, now three-year old, cat is just too time-consuming.

I moved from Los Angeles to New Orleans and I don't have to change the title of my blog.  Nice.

I have not been referred to as "baby" this many times, since I was one.  

I'm starting to think that po-boys are just a vehicle for mayonnaise. 

I still hate mayonnaise.

Psycho. Volume 3.

A few weeks ago, my friend Ed and I found ourselves having, as we often do, tacos for lunch. The tacos were tasty and this, lovely and new, establishment also made available a selection of cupcakes. I decided that I would have a red velvet cupcake. Though I found, much to my dismay, that it had been refrigerated and was too cold to be edible at that moment. I decided to let it sit for a while. In the interim, we were visited by an old friend. Yes, indeed. There happened to be an empty table perpendicular to ours and she took up residence there. This establishment happened to be quieter than the previous and I was able to hear more of what she said. This one-sided conversation, as I had suspected, consisted mainly of gibberish. Though, I was able to discern that she thought that my cupcake was fancy. It was, most definitely, fancy. I have never seen a more sumptuous nor more hastily consumed cupcake. Ever.

Assault.

On Saturday I found myself, once again, having been lured by the promise of cupcakes, at Auntie Em's. My friend Ed and I were seated at a small table in the middle of the dining area, which left me feeling rather ill at ease to begin with. My unsettled feeling was reinforced by an assault in the form of a waitress carrying a chair. She apologized and, since I wasn't injured or in any pain, I continued on merrily eating breakfast (though the time of day would have suggested that I was eating a late lunch). Some time later, cupcakes consumed and bill paid, I was violated a second time by the very same waitress and chair. This time, it hurt. She apologized profusely and refunded the cost of our deserts. I only wish I had ordered a dozen cupcakes.

Hypothetical Reasons For a Blog to Lay Fallow.

1. Lack of inspiration.

2. A clandestine love affair.

3. A thirty-day cruise from Los Angeles to New Zealand.

4. Food-poisoning.

5. Loss of internet access.

6. Writer's block.

7. Famine.

Concerning establishments that never close.

If one is the proprietor of a restaurant that is open 24 hours per day, one might be concerned about patrons who, perhaps, overstay their welcome. Here are some excellent solutions, that I have encountered, to this vexing problem:

1. Play sappy love songs from the 1980's on a loop. A very short loop.

2. As an alternative to #1, play a radio station with static sufficient enough to be audible but not to drown out the music completely.

3. Invest in seating that discourages lengthy use.

4. Put your staff on a table-clearing schedule sporadic enough to attract flies to the unconsumed portions of food left on the aforementioned tables.

Eggs.

If you find yourself administering an Easter egg hunt, keep track of where you hide the eggs. Use a map or, perhaps, a spreadsheet. Accept the possibility that the participants might not find all of the eggs. By keeping track of the eggs, you can lessen the odds that some unsuspecting individual will find an egg full of melted and rotting jelly beans in the shrubbery in front of their apartment.

Pain.

On Saturday I went to see the new film Whatever Works at a small theater in Pasadena. I happened to get an aisle seat and, when an old man indicated that he wanted to sit in my row, I stood up so that he might have more room to get to his seat. When he stepped on my foot, I was inclined to let it go and not say anything. He was elderly, after all. When he stepped on my other foot, however, I couldn't help but let out an, "ouch!" He did not apologize or acknowledge my pain in any way. I was wearing sandals, by the way.