April 10, 2005
Jim's Fried Chicken
Flynny turned me on to this place. A dive in San Marco, of all places, so upscale, and yet there is Jim's, nested near a parking lot, a cinderblock two-story, painted a disgusting, queer yellow.
But: the best fried chicken in the universe, and iced tea? Packed ice chips in a huge styrofoam cup, so sweet you slap your grandmama down.
Our dirty secret. I could do Jim's every damned day. And I'm looking for my missing thirty pounds. But even a soulless person sech as I must exercise restraint. There is nothing better than Jim's chicken grease on your face. Even sex, I swear to Allah.
You better hope your Velociwoman doesn't read that post, or it'll be a big bucket of Jim's, a bottle of Jim and the couch fo'yo ass.
Posted by: Cythen at April 11, 2005 2:18 PMWhat Cythen said. In fact, I think I'd put the v-string on Jim's chicken and take the night off.
Posted by: Key at April 11, 2005 10:09 PMI didn't realize lunch with a coworker was a criminal act. What the hell is wrong with you people? Don't like fried chicken?
Posted by: Velociman at April 11, 2005 10:28 PMLOL! Read the last sentence of your post again, and THEN reread our comments.
Posted by: Key at April 11, 2005 10:45 PMYa know...a memorial post is overdue.
After nearly thirty years, their own fair city put them to pasture.
A year and a half of road construction, and the plead of the small business man was met with a defiant tough shit from city hall.
I swear that bastard I voted for must have buddy ties with the construction company.
A tragic loss.
Posted by: jmflynny at July 18, 2006 8:31 PM