First thought: I need to learn French. There are a lot of hot women in the city speaking French—especially in the West Village, near Washington Square Park. (And, oh, yeah, I guess it would be useful/fun to learn for other reasons, too.)
Went for a loooong walk through Tribeca today. Early on, I stopped by a place called Bubby's for one of the most fantastic breakfasts I've had in a long time. I was also tickled to see a dish with Smithfield ham topping their brunch menu; I didn't order it, though.
Just a few moments ago, I checked my email, and saw a curious ad at the top for something called "cougar" bars. Guess it's a sign I'm over the internet pr0n phase of my adolescence that I innocently clicked on the link out of genuine curiosity and got more enlightenment than I'd bargained for.
My mother used to drive a '69 Cougar when I was very small. Don't know how I feel about this new association.
So why was I lurking around Tribeca all morning and most of the afternoon, and receiving targeted ads for specialty bars in my email? Believe it or not, it's related to a small, fun project I'm putting together at work. Seriously. I'll explain more later.
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