Bacon Bacon Bacon Bacon

You know, I don't have lunch with someone every day. It just seems like it, if you read Livejournal. So, yeah, today I had lunch with nottheterritory. And anidada... sorta.

nottheterritory had received a message from God, shortly before our rendevouz, in the form of a Shirley Bassey cover of a song by Pink. He closed me in a manly embrace and raved to the heavens about a "Bassey-Shaped Hole" in his soul. Happily, this was Front Street, and that sort of thing does not attract attention.


We took lunch at Paddington's Pump, where he continued his Bassey-ravings and also talked about Shakespearian innuendo and claimed the diner reminded him of a Wayne & Shuster set. The waitress came over to tell him he should be on the radio. We ate bacon, presented in widely differing delivery systems.

Then his wife anidada popped in and ate our pickles, before disappearing into the urban wilds of Front Street, in search of a burrito as big as her head.