Monday, December 16, 2013

Deep Thoughts While Dying of Too Much Korean BBQ

Inspiration is such a weird thing.  It can be everywhere and nowhere all at once.  It's this thing that hits us all in our strange, random moments, and can bring some individuals to sick levels of greatness.  And sometimes, that inspiration comes in extreme ways.  

History is filled with artists, writers, and musicians with "habits" that inspired their work.  Salvador Dali had his hashish, Ben Franklin had his opium, and Orson Welles had frozen peas, I think.  These were the keys that, for these wondrous and unique individuals, opened the gates of inspiration; they allowed them to open their minds, dropping the inhibitions that shorten the gaze of inspirations, and probably gave them an excuse to wave glow sticks and bunny hop at sweet rave parties.  And now I, Andres Domenech, powerful and influential amateur internet blogger (Now with over five readers, probably!), believe that I have found the key to my wordsmithing and amazing creativity: overeating at an all-you-can-eat Korean BBQ restaurant.

O Dae San's is my jammy jam. Located in the heart (or the lung, possibly) of Koreatown in L.A., it's a hopping and happening food joint where waiters bring you huge, unlimited plates of tasty meats with names I'll never be able to pronounce but will always love.  Said meat is brought to you and cooked right in front of your sweaty face, on a grill built into the table that allows you to cook at your own pace, unless you're spoiled like me and have an expert who knows how to cook some dead animal.

This is Kevin.  He is adorable.  Go love him.  Now.

It's simply amazing.  Food just keeps coming and coming and coming, until your belt snaps and your girlfriend no longer finds you physically attractive.  And the cost?  A little over 20 Dead Presidents (that's money, Kyle) for the expensive meats.  Awesome sauce.  Music to my cholesterol-filled ears. 

It is in the wake of joyous stomach pains from this amazing staple of a culture I know nothing about, happy yet hurting like a motherfucker, that I find myself in a surreal state of consciousness, delving deeply into the human condition, asking the questions and pondering the heavy concepts that no one truly gives a shit about.  And I though I'd share my inspired thinking with you lovely people in hopes you seeing my true idiocy.  And yes, they've been italicized to provide emphasis.  Genius, I know:

You know that voice that tells you stop eating?  Yeah, that guy died for me a while ago...

-Why is it that old, wealthy white men feel the need to tan until they look like orange leather jackets that have melted in an iron forge?  There's no way that can look good in any one's twisted mind.

-I wish Wu Tang Financial was a real thing.  I'd trust the RZA and Method Man with my cash flow, hell, I'd actually save money for the sake of talking to Ghostface Killah about opening up that new Killer Beez CD investment account with high yield interest rates.  Ain't nothin' to fuck wit.

-What was it like for the first people to have sex?  Like, how did they figure that shit out?  Did a woman just trip over a dinosaur egg or whatever and fall on a guy one day while he had morning wood?  So weird.

-They should sell Nutella by the handful.  And by the handful, they should just scoop that shit up and put right in my hand.  Delicious.

-If I was rich, I'd buy Bryan Cranston.  Not for any real purpose; he just seems like an awesome dude.  We'd go get coffee, maybe throw rocks at the Beta Sigma  Kai girls, and paint fences while discussing the trials and tribulations of man.  Plus, I could make him knock on doors and introduce himself as the danger.  Fucking awesome.

                                                                                                              via Panda Whale

-I miss Happy Endings.  Not the hand job things you get at the end of massages.  The show with Eliza Cuthbert and Damon Wayans, Jr.  Great show.

                                                                                                                                              via Warming Glow

-When is McDonald's going to finally jump the shark and make some sort of  Cheeseburger/Chicken Nugget sandwich combination?  Get your shit together, Ronald.  Carl's Jr. laughs at your yellow Coveralls.

-Deer are assholes.  They know what they did.

So yeah, I'd say I'm on the fast track to Pulitzer.  Any deep thoughts of your own?  Some amusing anecdotes you've found in a stream of consciousness?  Or just want to call me an asshole?  Feel free to share in the comments below or on Facebook.  Promise not to steal all of them- just the good ones.

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