Comfort (Food) and Joy

I was in the mood for some comfort food tonight after working late and missing my squash class. Didn't feel like cooking buying groceries so I decided to treat myself to some Mexican.

Sadly Juan wasn't en casa, so I wandered down to The Texas Embassy instead.

It was basura, but it hit the spot. A long-neck Dos Equis, greasy chips (tortilla chips, not papas fritas) and an all-meat, no-soy enchillada combo plate with rice and beans. Replete with country-western music in the background.

Disney coudn't have created finer verisimilitude.

As I was waiting for the bill, a strangely familiar, but totally out-of-context tune came on. Hark the what?!? Noel Noel? Comfort and joy?

Is that some Kenny Chestnut wannabe warbling Christmas carols? In October? Before the flan?

Way.Too.Early.

Now I'm no Scrooge (and neither is Tommy Steele if the posters are any evidence), but can't we have just a little autumn before we toss a carol on the spinnet?

Comfort and joy, indeed. Sweet wounded Jesus, where's my Bat Boy CD?

:: :: ::

P.S. I now have the London OCR on, which makes me miss Kerry Butler.