On a particulary balmy and stormy summer night a few weeks ago, the boy and I decided to try the beloved summer dish. We braved the humity and ran out into the rain, dodging puddles and hailing down a cab that took us into a quiet corner of. Where our pal Chris resides. We each ordered our own dish of. The whole chicken nestled on a pile of white rice, sitting patiently at the bottom of the hot stone bowl, slowly soaking up all of the different flavors.

This blog is a document of my journey. Middot; in desert art. Some black and white photographs. Middot; Leave a comment.

Le douanier déchiffre mon formulaire vert tandis que je réponds à chacune de ses questions. Non, je ne suis pas venu pour mettre le pays à feu et à sang, je ne connais personne aux Etats Unis et je viens en ami, comme sur Myspace.