LA is simply fedorable

is some of the dumbest shit I ever heard anyone say. He was comparing LA to New York. He was a douche.

But that doesn't really have much to do with today's adventure. Or maybe it does...

The Spot:
The Hat

Why we went:
Edwin says "I don't like hot pastrami, but I like this place's hot pastrami".
I say, "We'll see".
You see, the west coast generally sucks at sandwiches. They don't really have deli's (that I've seen in my short time). The sandwiches, simply put, are shit. Everything comes with avocado. Don't get me wrong I like avocado, but it has a place. But I agree to it anyway because, hey, I'm a sucker for hot pastrami, especially of the world famous variety.

What we ordered:
Look at that cup. Here's what that cup says to anyone who's not retarded:

WORLD FAMOUS HOT PASTRAMI! oh, by the way we also have these other foods that we put in tiny font because they aren't good. If you order those thing we'll look at you funny and wonder why you even bothered coming here.

But of course one measly sandwich wasn't going to be enough for me. So being a sucker for advertising (and anything preceded by the word Fantastic) ordered their "Fantastic Chili Fries!" as well.

What it looks like:

It looks like that sandwich is dying. It looks like the sandwich has vomited all over itself. It looks delicious. Meat explosion!

The fries look like a incredible as well. They are a huge order of fries and they fuckin better be for $5.

What we thought:

Well we all know this place gives Edwin an erection, but what about Brother Homie Ryan and myself?
BHR ate half the sandwich and decided it wasn't for him. I believe his exact words were, "Maybe I just don't like hot pastrami?", as though he was asking a question. So basically, he thought it sucked.
Finally me, the most pastrami experienced out of the lot of us. It was...good. Not great. No where near a sandwich that would have me changing my opinion on pastrami. Another place that's having trouble deciding between quality and quantity. Sandwich and 1/3 order of fries was way too much for person. If you want to get technical, well, then ok...the bread was thin and had trouble containing all the meat. The meat had decent flavor but you should be able to taste the yellow mustard, which I couldn't without adding extra.
Overall I'd say...meh, maybe meh+. Where the place really shined (or is it shone? I don't know) was the parade of schlups walking past the window as we ate. Even if the fantastic chili fries weren't fantastic we sat their entertained by conversation and people watching: mexican punk with a shirt that said "die die my dear"? Check. Lady limping along with 1 crutch? Check. Lady using a hefty stretch garbage bag as a purse? Check. And so on and so forth forever.

...must be near a Monterrey Park bus stop or something.

yay blogs.
Love forever, Doug.

Mucho Gusto Edwin

Did you know that Edwin was a common name in Latin America? Neither did I. How about Alan? Yup, that ones pretty common too. Weird, huh?

Anyway, figured I should give our final member a proper introduction so here he is:

Edwin is a fun loving, lighthearted El Salvadorian Guerrilla who likes to pinch his lip right beneath his nose when he's thinking extra hard. I was lucky enough to catch him in one of those hard thinking moments. And now I share it with you. Appreciate it. He used to be front man to a rock group called Edwin and the Dirt Dogs but has since quit the game. I'm not exactly sure why but I blame having a baby, turns out baby's are lame...but you already knew that.

Back Dated Adventure

Ok, so we're not that smart. We didn't say, "Hey lets go on adventures and blog about them". Instead we went on a couple food adventures and today, whilst adventuring, said to ourselves, "Hey! We should like take pictures of our food and shit and maybe rate it". I don't remember who said it, so I'll go ahead and take credit for it. So, sadly we don't have pictures of all of our meat for this meatbook, but only the more recent.
So here's #1...

The Spot:
Manuel's El Tepeyac

Why we went:
I saw that shit on man vs food, so basically it's famous, right? On the show, the host, I think his name is Adam, is welcomed at the entrance by Manuel himself with a giant shot of tequila. Me (being of Boston) and our Guerrilla (being an El Salvadorian) are naturally attracted to anywhere that welcomes you with giant shots of tequila.

What we ordered:
Well, we obviously ordered the Manuel Special. It's big.

What it looks like:

Hey! You can almost see our Guerrilla in that picture. His head is a little chopped off and the massive burrito covers his bottom half but you still get a taste. That'll have to be enough for now. Anyway, that burrito measures about 17" long, 5" tall and 7" wide. It's about 5 pounds of carne asada just waiting to bring you the closest to shitting your pants you've been in years.

What we thought:

Manuel's goes for quantity over quality. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing. Do you want to have a delicious meal with all the finest of flavors coming together in a symphony of delight in your mouth? Or do you want to eat until you're uncomfortable and hate your life (and children even more than you hated them before)? If you picked eat till you want to die, then Manuel's is for you.

Yay blogs!

Love Doug...er...Aesop...er...KingstonDog.

Smash a bottle of champagne on this bitch

Cause here we go...

To get this thing started off right, I should probably introduce the main players. #1 is obviously me. It might not have been my idea but I had the initiative to start this thing, so that's something right? Something enough to let me put my name first in the credits. So here I am.

You'll notice my beard is particularly fluffed. Normally it's not quite so...I guess proud is a good word for it, but I was in a good mood and I wanted a way to show it without having to tell people. I'll be the Bostonian Snob mentioned in the intro.

#2, simply because he's here right now, frustratingly making a google account so he can contribute to this, is our native born surfer dude, Brother Homie Ryan. I snapped this cell phone pic in the midst of his creating the account. You can see the frustration just pouring off of him. Enjoy.

Just look at that hair! Now that's authentic Southern California Surfer hair if I've ever seen some. 

Our final member is away form his desk right now so I'll end this brief introduction and start penning the first adventure of our adventure blog. I'm going to try to keep them short, but I tend to ramble so no fuckin' promises...

yay blogs!