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Thursday, November 18, 2010

Peter Pan -- Greenpoint Brooklyn, New York

So if you've known me for, say, I don't know, more than two hours, then you probly know that there's one thing I enjoy more than anything else:  being a fucking Slam Pig*.  But there's something about being in The City that reaallly cranks up my being a SLAM PIG to 11.  We're talking eat leek quiche out of maggie's mouth, get high with two sexy bitches I just met outside of Zebulon, say a bunch of made up of shit to some over-attractive British band who Vice flew over just to play a party, sing The Beatles' “Yesterday” with b-rock at the karaoke bar, and pass out in the bathroom, Slam Pig.  So it's this level of Slam Pig that requires the kind of meal that's gonna make your heart cuddle with your brain after it makes passionate love to your stomach.  And where does one find this meal?  Oh, well they have that at a little Polish joint called Peter Pan in Greenpoint, Brooklyn.

So basically this place looks like it's stuck in the 1950's, right down to the bad ass uniforms they make all the sexy Polish chicks wear.  And btw, it's just girls who serve you, the way it fucking should be, by golly.  God I love those girls and their amazing accents.  I like to think whenever they speak to each other in Polish and giggle, they're actually talking about how much they wanna slam my pig(see what I did there?).  Sorry, im getting a little side tracked.

So I usually go with a bagel sandwich, but I overheard Deaner and B-rock order their jams on a gee dee onion roll, and I was all like “oohhhh shiiiit, sen!”  That's totally the way to go.  The rolls have the perfect amount of crisp and crunch on the outside, and the almost-texture of cotton candy on the inside.  You wanna know what I had on that bitch?  Egg and cream cheese -- like a boss.  I paired my sandwich with two cups of just about boiling coffee, New York Kosher Pepsi(does that mean that it was prayed over or something?  That's fucking rad, dude.), and what these fuckers are known for:  dog nuts.  I'm not sure what you dick heads know about dog nuts, but I'm about to educate you:  Peter Pan's dog nuts are THE BEST FUCKING DOG NUTS YOU WILL EVER PUT IN YOUR MOUTH.  Holy shit, man.  If you actually find a better dog nut, for pete's sake, don't tell me, cuz ill probly throw myself out of the nearest window.  Oh, you guys gotta hear this shit, you're gonna have a mind explosion.  

So my prettier-than-you friend, Jocelyn, tagged along with us and was all like, “okay, what I want you to do is take that whole wheat glazed doughnut over there, right?  So I want you to cut it in half.  Great.  Now you see that seasonal pumpkin ice cream you have in that case over there?  Yeah, go ahead and throw a scoop of that shit in between our newly halved doughnut.  Aweesooome.  So now all you have to do is change Jon Bray's boxers seeing as how his dick just barfed all over them.  Oh, looks like his jaw's on the floor, too.”  She actually doesn't talk like that, she's a suitor.

Peter Pan's:  changing lives since, well, I dunno how long they've been open.  Why don't you google it, you lazy slam pig?


*Slam Pig [ŜłāМ - pÏĠ☻] 1.  Term originally coined by Dana Ratcliffe meaning, “Basically filthy, potentially disgusting, or fat gaping whore depositories”  2. Extreme Sin  3.  Invisible Hand's new favorite term

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