Last night Sophie AKA Wink$y AKA Creechies and I stopped by Royal T in Culver City where my friend Tyler was curating an art show. It opened last night but you can go see it until October 18. Details here.

We left when Snoop’s Uncle made us all be quiet so he could sing.

Ok fine, maybe it wasn’t Uncle Junebug, but they sure had a lot in common.

We didn’t feel like anything in Culver City for dinner so we headed west to Nanbankan, a secret back alley yakitori spot in West LA. Sophie always puts me on to good Japanese spots, even though she’s a British bird.

Just as we began serenading each other with chicken meatball poems, we she remembered I’m not eating meat all month in honor of Vegetarian Awareness Month. She promised she wouldn’t report me if I ate meat, but I committed to nothing with a head all month and no matter how unhappy that makes me, I’m doing it. Hopefully. Seriously.

We ordered sake and edamame to get started.

The only reason I told you that, since I imagine you could’ve guessed that and you don’t really give a shit about soybeans, is that I’m stalling. I have no idea what anything else we ordered was called and apparently Nanbankan is not only tucked away in a secret alley in real life, but it is also hiding from menupages.com. I wish I didn’t want to call everything agedashi tofu.

Ok got it, I think. We ordered yaki onigiri, or grilled rice triangles.

Each was filled with a delicate amount of something delicious–Sophie’s with salmon and mine with pickled plum.

To anyone who is either Mexican or has been overly adventurous with snack shopping at 7-11, the pickled plum tasted like saladitos.

Then Sophster had the chicken meatballs–tiny, perfect little guys, begging me to violate the code of vegetarianism.

I ordered a tofu and vegetable soup with ponzu. I’m not a skilled enough PI to figure out what this was called, but all I know is, this shit was hotter than a mother. The steam itself burned the shit out of my arm, in theory at least, since there’s not evidence of any harm done. I’m ok, I’m fine. Thanks.

Afterward, we walked around the corner to the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Nah, I’m just playing. I don’t see movies past my bedtime unless I can sleep through them and pretend I’ve been awake the whole time when the person next to me taps me to wake me up.