Articles from Cheeseburger Gothic
Nothing. It was glorious. It wasn’t nothing either. The fam put on a really lovely lockdown lunch for me - slow cooked lamb shoulder with all the fixin’s and a dangerous amount of cheese from Le Fromage Yard.
PARIS — When the French government launched a smartphone app that gives 300 euros to every 18-year-old in the country for cultural purchases like books and music, or exhibition and performance tickets, most young people’s impulse wasn’t to buy Proust’s greatest works or to line up and see Molière.
I was just reading through that last entry on Alan B’s horror novel and saw the phrase ‘refused to trod’.
It wasn’t a typo.
I actually wrote that on purpose, knowing what I was doing even as I did it. Not because I’m a good looking loner who lives by his own rules, but because my brain is fucking mush right now and I can barely hold a thought in my head.
I used to read a lot more horror when I was young, but fell out of the habit (except for Stephen King titles) some time in my late twenties. I was in the mood for something dark and quirky after my recent hospital stay, however, so I dived into Alan Baxter’s The Gulp.
This is of a piece with that super spendy burger I found the other day. Except this time it’s just the side dish. Serendipity 3, an Upper East Side greasy spoon offers two hundred bucks worth of tater fingers par boiled in champagne, double fried, and drowned in three forms of truffle. Then dusted with gold shavings.