10:30 AM was a hard place to be for me today.
I'd lost several thousand brain cells to various bottles of wine and 95 minutes of my life to The Descent. I'm never going to get any of that back and I woke up with a hangover to boot.
I'd been hearing good things about the movie, but about a half hour in it was apparent that it was less about "Girl Power Fights The (Bat)Man" and more about "Whiny, Unredeemable Bitches Get Eaten By The Morlocks". Frankly, by the end, I was happy that they all died horribly.
That meant I could sleep.
It made me want to watch Cabin Fever all over again just so I could remember what a good little backwoods sleeper hit horror movie was like all over again. Before the horror that was Hostel.
My day did not find an event horizon from its blackhole of alcohol damage until I saw Alton Brown's new miniseries, Feasting On Asphalt. Not only did he eat brains in this particular episode - which, yes, was more horrifying than the entirety.. of "The Descent" - but he ended the episode with a trip to a frozen custard place that whips up a delicacy that is so icy stiff that you can hold the container upside down and nothing falls out. The restaurant is Ted Drewes. It's in St. Louis, Missouri. Someday, I will eat there.
In the meantime, Mr. Scoop and I had to content ourselves with the local ice cream parlor. We'd never eaten there, but it was on the way to the comic book store and that was enough to recommend it. Plus, the hangover was demanding a sacrifice of chocolate and sugar to sate the evil minions in the serotonin department of our brains. It had been a very long day of sitting on the couch wishing for death and we were going to need an extra boost to get us in fighting trim for tonight's drinking.
Lizzy's is nestled between a "gourmet pottery store" and some other hole in the wall establishment, I think it's a novelty t-shirt place, on the long stretch that is Moody Street. Moody Street is home to several excellent restaurants, martial arts store fronts that offer sales of edged weapons, a laundromat, and an adult bookstore cum "toy shop". The bookstore offers a 10% discount to students.
Mr. Scoop and I both opted for medium sized brownie sundaes with all the fixings. I had pistachio ice cream on mine. He had an ice cream that was titled "Chocolate Orgy". Mr. Scoop feels that any dessert that is not 100% chocolate is suffering from bullshit posturing. When I pointed out that, sometimes, I like other things with my chocolate he countered that "chocolate chips were 'other things'. Chocolate things.. that deserve to be reunited with their chocolate brethren."
As we staggered out of the shop with a full chocolate buzz in effect, my stomach was already trying to have a covert discussion with my brain:
Stomach: "What the hell are you trying to do to me, man?"
Brain: "Shut up, dude. Just take it. Take it!"
While my stomach and brain were beginning to bandy about terms like "fugue state" and "diabetic coma", we were greeted with the unexpected sight of several Marine recruits - led by a flag bearer - jogging up Moody Street with a Sergeant singing/yelling some cadence to them that they were shouting back all sing-song in time. "I-don't-know. But-I-been-told. Big-legged-women-ain't-got-no-soul. Sound off. 1-2. Sound off. 3-4. 1-2-3-4-1-2-Go-Zep !"
All they needed was a mud shark to make the recruits' humiliation complete.
It was one of the more bizarre things I've ever seen.
Hell, it gave me the energy to start drinking again this evening.
That and the chocolate.
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