I haven't purchased any necessary groceries since before Christmas so my the pickings from my pantry are slim, and usually I suffer through the hunger as I'm not really inspired to demonstrate my culinary prowess using only balsamic vinaigrette, peanut butter, and pancake mix. Except tonight. I'm crawling into bed, nearly comatose from my Crumbs 'King' cupcake. It's January 8, and any good Memphian knows what today is: why, it's Elvis's birthday of course! In commemoration of the late, great jumpsuit-wearing, cloud-moving, hip-swiveling King of Rock 'n' Roll, a favorite bakery of scads of New Yorkers is serving up a specialty cupcake of his favorite staples: peanut butter and banana. No bacon though. It's probably for the best. I might end up looking a little bloated and sweaty, much like this:
[WHEN SHE'S TRYING TO GET THE MONEY FOR THE RENT]
[come on in]
One aspiring journalist's guide to surviving Manhattan on a less than, ahem, fruitful income. In a shifting industry. During the recession. So why the obscure allusion to a marginally known film with a pimp / aspiring rapper protagonist? This reference is only fitting as we both are from Memphis with Big Dreams, but FYI, I do not dabble in prostitution. So if you have different expectations, please visit elsewhere. I can only promise you my contrived quips, financial tips, and an organ or two if the price is right.