Avoid Nachos!

I got home late from work last night, but I also knew I didn't have to go in this morning, so I did what any normal person does at 9:30 on a Tuesday - drank four cups of coffee, put Ellen on the TV, and did a little work on the book.  I find nothing is more conducive to good writing than day-time talk shows and mass amounts of caffeine; I'm convinced this is how Shakespeare came up with Hamlet.


Anyway.
What to blog about?


I often get requests from friends or family to blog about something specific.  And by 'often' what I really mean is 'last night for the first time in my life'.  Richie asked me to write about a particular nachos restaurant he and Alex recently ate at; I'm supposed to tell you how shit it is.  Well, it's shit!  Twenty bucks, and the nachos don't even taste that good.  And those guys were drunk.  If something doesn't taste good when you're drunk, you know you're either accidentally eating the napkin it came in, or Jacki Trew must have cooked it.  The only problem is, I've totally forgotten the actual name of this nachos restaurant.  Maybe it wasn't even a restaurant.  It could have been a nachos stand.  Or perhaps Alex and Richie purchased their nachos from a homeless person.  All I'm saying is, if you live in Sydney, avoid nachos.
And homeless people.