Unrelated: The next comment on this blog will by my 2000th comment! THAT IS A LOT. Maybe I will give Commenter #2000 a prize! (Probably the prize will be: I will make you a badge out of construction paper and paste with a crayon portrait of Fox Mulder on it. It will say “YEAR 2000″ only “YEAR” will be crossed out and “COMMENTER” will be written over top.)
Related: VV and I had another adventure, this time to Cole’s, the oldest continuously operating restaurant in Los Angeles for SANDWICHES SANDWICHES SANDWICHES (and also garlic fries and mac and cheese) and then to DONUT KING II! (I believe that is pronounced “Donut King the Second.” I tried to find out where Donut King the First would be, but it turns out that Donut King is a popular name for donut shops, for some reason.)
Anyhow, Cole’s is fun and neat. Like Phillipe’s, it claims to be the inventor of the French Dip. Unlike, Phillipe’s it seems to be very invested in its image. Actually, as I read that I want to take it back – Phillipe’s is also invested in its image, but it’s image is of not being invested in its image. Cole’s, on the other hand, is very “WELCOME TO A DARK RESTAURANT IN 1908.” Having tasted both French Dips, I’m still on the fence – but Cole’s gives you jus for dipping, and Phillipe’s doesn’t, and Cole’s has better side dishes, but Phillipe’s is cheaper, and Phillipe’s has a neat counter where you order directly from the carvers, and I think Phillipe’s sandwich was kind of tastier. I guess it really all comes down to ambiance. Apparently, Cole’s used to be the Cole’s Pacific Electric Buffet (because it is in the basement of the Pacific Electric building) until, like, a year ago, when it was taken over by some fancy restauranteur who gave it a bit of a makeover to be more 1908-y, so, arguably, Phillipe’s is more “authentic,” if you go in for that kind of argument (I don’t), but both made pretty good sandwiches, which ultimately is the point.
Anyhow anyhow, on the menu at Cole’s was a list of things that were filmed there. And on that list was X-FILES! So, naturally, when we got home, we tried to figure out which episode was shot at Cole’s and the internet turned up NOTHING. Absolutely nothing whatsoever. It is like I have finally found the aporia in the internet’s knowledge. And it’s really distressing, too, because I obviously was going to immediately watch the episode in question. Instead, it appears that I will have to watch every episode from Season 6 (which was when filming moved to LA) on, in order to find the Cole’s episode. Alas, what a hardship. (Actually, given the dark years of Seasons 8-9, it might be a bit of a hardship.)
In the absence of the Cole’s episode, however, we watched 3, the Mulder-has-sex-with-a-vampire-and-it’s-awkward episode from Season 2. I knew it was set in LA, but I couldn’t remember if it was filmed in LA. I obviously hadn’t watched it since before I moved here, because, dude, you only have to spend one day in this city to realize that 3 is set in Vancouver pretending to be LA, and it is SO FUNNY. And also, we made up a new game, called Look Up The Addresses That Mulder and Scully are Supposed To Be At in Google Maps and See What’s Actually There. So, what we found out is that “Club Tepes,” the bar that’s like Club Abstract but is worse, where Mulder totally hits on Gross Vampire Lady, is approximately located where the Alexander McQueen store is on Melrose, and the mansion in Malibu where they eventually end up is actually located in a tunnel, which really is kind of remarkable given how few tunnels there are here in Los Land of Earthquakes.
Anyhow, sorry. I will stop X-Filesing for now.
DONUTS! Donut King II donuts were, you know, donuts. The real revolution came the next morning, when I decided to heat up a plain ol’ glazed donut that had gotten slightly stale in a frying pan – the glaze carmelized and it got all crispy and amazing. BETTER BREAKFAST THROUGH SCIENCE! I am telling you.
Anyhow, at some point in the course of Wednesday Night Adventuring, it was decided that I would start a new blog feature, called Word of the Week, in which I define a word. This week’s word is MIRACLE. Here is the definition of miracle: A miracle is when you think you’re all out of gin, but then you realize you have an entire other bottle in the cupboard. MIRACLE.
Here is a picture of me, chillaxing at Donut King II with a Vanilla Dip:
And here is a picture of the giant donut, in which I tried to capture it’s awe-inspringness:
And also, we returned to Mr. T’s Meat Market, and here it is in non-blurry glory:
And here is a drive in liquor store, which seems, you know, very sensible:
And here is the sign welcoming you with a pip, pip, cheerio to Canterbury Knolls, Los Angeles’ least likely named neighbourhood (ie: there are no knolls, and also, it is in the shitty part of Los Angeles, not England):
And Sunday we might go to La Puente. Which is somewhere. I don’t actually know where. But what I do know, is that it is home to this majestic work of architechtural genius:
