Garlic Mustard Tuna and In N Out Copy for Burger Research – Didn’t Leave the House Saturday – Gallos vs Chivas, McGregor vs Mayweather, and X-23/Felicia/Morrigan vs Phoenix Wright/M.O.D.O.K/Arthur

It’s Sunday!


It means nothing.

I woke up in a salty mood for no reason.

With a cringe in my neck.

Yesterday went alright.

I ate a lot.

Girlfriend made delicious tuna covered in some garlic mustard sauce and steamed veggies (with more garlic). It looked like this.

I got full right away… but in less than an hour, I was hungry again.

And I needed to do some research for the burger text.

Writer’s block was gone because of word vomit lubricant.

I actually wrote a bunch for my burger text. Almost half.

Today, I need to research another burger and then I’ll be almost done.

The burger that I found, recommended by my brother, is called Yo Mommaz and it’s not that far from the apartment.

It is basically In N Out in Tijuana. It’s really great if you love In N Out (and I do). So I’m glad I have a place to go now when I crave In n Out and I don’t have to cross the border.

They are definitely getting the shout out.

Querétaro Gallos played against Chivas de Guadalajara.

Chivas are the champs, but doing the worst in this tourney.

It was a boring first half of 0-0 until the end of the half when it had some action.

Then it was an okay second half that ended again 0-0.

Shitty game.

Then the fight.

Girlfriend slept all day.

Since after eating the tuna, she slept on the couch. I went to go get the burger, it took me more than an hour, she didn’t even realize I had left. She didn’t realize she had been sleeping for more than two hours.

Then she wanted to sleep some more.

The fight started and I went to grab beers for it.

It was a surprisingly entertaining fight.

Girlfriend woke up for it.

And I explained boxing and the boxers. She liked Mayweather because of his ability to defend. I told her that the fucker beats his wife and is illiterate. She says she likes that she defeated the sport by pure defense… I say he killed the sport.


It was a surprisingly good fight. Compared to Pacquiao’s fight which was a snooze fest. I obviously wanted McGregor to win, but damn… He didn’t save his stamina.

He got fucked.

After the fight, I was just going to continue playing video games. Saturday night, sort of felt like going out, but at the same time… nahhhh

Girlfriend wanted to play video games with.

We played Ultimate Marvel Vs Capcom 3.

Simple mode for her. With a team of X-23, Felicia, and someone extra. She only chooses chick fighters, so Morrigan or Trish or Tron Bonne. She doesn’t have a third. She just likes Felicia and X-23.

Handicap all the way down for me. So yep. She killed me with just three hits or so.

My main team did destroy her, but different teams, she would actually beat me and it would actually made the game fun.

After 20 minutes of playing, I sort of figured how to beat her with whichever team. And she stopped trying as well.

She hates losing. But she doesn’t want to learn how to play.

Similar to when she wanted to beat me on Scrabble but she wouldn’t let me give her tips…

For some reason, I woke up to The Impossibles in my head.

I used to listen to that album a lot when I was a teenager.

Warning. Pretty much emo.

Now. Sunday.

And look at me! I’m not skipping it.

Girlfriend is doing the Sunday routine of doing laundry, cleaning the house, and drinking a blended coffee with alcohol and walnuts beverage invention. She always makes some sort of invention.

Shitty coffee.

No workout.

Maybe some workout.

I did double yesterday. I had the time and the will.

It’s almost 1 pm.

Done with laundry.

Grabbed the water jug.

More shitty coffee.

Slight shitty workout.

Hungry as fuck. Girlfriend still wants to vacuum and shower.

I just want to go get food. And not even shower.

Relax this Sunday.

Do almost nothing.

Just some light burger research.

And I’ll be done.

I have a heavy week ahead of me. Deadlines for once. At least those are almost complete. The only thing that I’m missing is a bit of burger text.

I was hoping that I ended my other two articles by then, but it wasn’t meant to be.

I hope I finish them soon.

I need to write more.

I haven’t been published in the magazine for over three weeks.

It’s Sunday!


I don’t want to do anything.

Not even reach 1,000 words.

Word vomit failed.

Too hungry.

Defaulting to tacos because I don’t want to wait anymore.


I hit post without writing a title. That’s how much I wanted to get over this and go get food.




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