I was in the shower tonight thinking of what to write for this evening’s post. All my ideas were too lame or weak to carry a good post by itself. So I’ve decided to shove ’em all together in the hopes they’ll become one large, bad post.

Hey, if you know me, you’ll know that I love pho. If I’ve shared a good bowl of pho with you, that wasn’t just a regular meal we had… that was almost a religious experience. Anyways, in a previous post, I lamented the lack of pho joints downtown. Well, someone heard my call. I was on a bus the other day going north along Granville when I spotted a pho place on Davie. It’s called Pho N Rolls I think. I barely saw the purple neon sign in time. The next time I’m downtown and need lunch or dinner or a snack, I’m going to try it out. Who wants to join me?

In other news, in a sure sign that I’m getting old, I’m forgetting names. Sure some people, no matter what age, always have problems remembering names. That was never me though. I used to hang onto names years after I last talked to or saw a person. After university, I could probably rattle off nearly every person I went to elementary school with. Times are different though. Don’t tell anyone this but I forgot the name of an SJC resident I used to see quite frequently last year. This person was always at dinner at my table and this person used to attend the same SJC events that I did. I saw this same person over the weekend and I didn’t know their name. Because I’m sauve and deboner, I handled the situation deftly but a lesser man would have choked at the social awkwardness.

I strived for days to remember this person’s name using sheer will but it would not come to me. I took a class once where we briefly discussed how humans encode and store info and why we can’t remember. There are two theories. The first is that the info gets corrupted or lost somehow, so when we try to remember it’s gone. The second is that the info is still tucked away in our brain somewhere, pristine in condition, yet somehow, we cannot get to it again.

Where was I? Oh yeah, so I broke down and scoured my e-mail archives because I remember this person’s name was on a few e-mails that got sent out a few months ago. So mystery solved. Tyson Brust, I will never forget your name again. Ha ha ha… I’m a funny guy.

And I’ll leave you with a story about man who got his penis bitten by a hooker.

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