I know it's been a long time since I rapped at ya, but I've been trying to come up with Onion parodies, which is strange because The Onion is already a parody. Apropos of nothing, I have a birthday coming up -- the big milestone of 28. That's right: I am one year old in Saturn years. You know what else is cool about 28? It's a perfect number. So I'd better enjoy the next year of my life, because I won't experience a perfect age again until I'm 496.
Now in past years, I've celebrated my birthday by writing an introspectively sullen entry on Livejournal reflecting on how I haven't amounted to anything worthwhile. Well, not this year. The start of a perfect age should start with perfection. And to me, that means celebrating with friends, in a brasserie that serves the finest epicurean delights to satisfy perceptive gourmands, along with vintages to please the most discerning connoisseur's palette. Or the local bar. Whichever is cheaper.
After a nation-wide search, the chosen place is "The Independent" in Union Square. Why? Because that's what the search committee said. You expect me to read the whole report? Go to the website if you're curious. Look, it calls fries "frites," and any place that pretentious can't be all bad.
-- Dolsen and the Troika