Mancora
That is the name of the new Peruvian place near our home. It's pretty tasty. I had some sort of red snapper and rice covered in a slightly spicy creamy tomato sauce with tons of seafood piled on top. Scallops, calamari, shrimp, mussels, clams… and possibly something I am missing.
The waiter looked like Julio Iglesias. He was a handsome MF. Mrs. Robot and I both turned to each other after he had taken our orders and said, "He is handsome".
He sweet talked us in to dessert. HE could of sweet talked us into another dinner, to be honest.
He was handsome and smoooooth.
Ladies (and gents): go there for dinner.
Mancora
176 Smith Street


I'm really happy in New York, but this fits too.


President for all the wrong reasons
I constantly think about being president, but not in the way you would expect a person who thinks about it constantly would think about it. I don't really have the lust of power, or the need to rule. I don't want my face on magazines or newspapers. I don't want Adam Felber making funny cartoons at my exspense. But, I do want a team of doctors chasing me around and analyzing my blood work and urine samples. I want a chef and dietian designing amazing meals for me that not only taste good, but are good for me "President Robot, for dinner tonight is flourless chocalate cake - it tastes just like cake, but there is no fat in it, and it was made entirely of asparagus".
I want a Fresh Samantha keg in my kitchen.
I want a huge bed.
I want a team of trainers to make me run 2 miles a day and do pushups until I cry.

I want to call people on the phone just for fun.
"Hello"
"yes, this is president Robot. Is this David - the one I went to school with in the 8th grade and who stole my wallet?"
"um, yes Mr. President. I am so so sorry, I feel so bad - "
"You're a dick"
*click*

I want some nice pens on my desk, too.

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