We're pathologically social. We're professional leisurists. We're burrito lovers, bar flies, art whores and music nerds. We dish the good dirt, and we'll risk a parking ticket for a cheap sample sale. Sometimes, we blog drunk.
Football food fever
Did you see the spanking that the Colts gave my sentimental favorite New Orleans Saints? Yeah, I missed it too...'cuz of a little thing called work. So instead of hanging over a bar with hot wings and a pint from the tap at Busby's or Ye Rustic Inn or even stinkin' TGIF, I stole a Luna bar (peanut butter flavored, at least) from my colleague and ate that in front of my computer.
That's okay. I'm not bitter or anything.
To remind me that I missed a kickin' kick-off, I got this in the mail:
Despite the totally misogynistic display, the Beach Blanket Buffet sounds kinda delicious...or at least, breakfasty. You can't really mess up the awesomeness of eggs and hash brown with a Sunday morning football game. (Well, unless you totally suck.)
The LA Times family was even game for a new football year. The cafeteria downstairs has been promoting a tailgate "party" all week:
But when Alie and I actually went downstairs during our "lunch" hour (which is like at 4pm) and were faced with this:
we opted for salad and some cold pasta instead. Actually the chicken or hot dog option (or even burgers and pizza) didn't look bad at all. I think I was really just craving the hot wings with a brewski...from a keg...not that we had one yesterday during a meet-and-greet with the rest of Times Interactive, or anything.
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