One Of My Favorite New Restaurants In Los Angeles.

My friends and I tried a Mexican restaurant, newly opened, located on the west side, and where is the diarrhea? I was promised there would be diarrhea.

Actually, it was awesome. It’s called Petty Cash, and it specializes in street food served high end. Grilled octopus tacos. Beef brisket quesadillas. A really nice place, only strangely way too affordable. Here’s what I mean:

Dorados. Crispy, rolled potato tacos with tomatillo sauce and cortijo cheese. The only thing this hefty serving seemed to be missing was a digit on the price. It was $4.50.

Negra Modelo beer-battered mahi-mahi taco – six bucks. Yeah, that just happened.

Great energy. It really felt like LA on a Saturday night, so imagine the aneurism I had.

Incandescent bulbs, which I believe are outlawed in California. (Counter-balancing that: a rooftop garden, in which many of the menu’s ingredients are grown.) Also, hand-painted murals by local street artist RETNA.

Besides the inexplicably low-priced dishes (I’d pay triple what they charge), is the restaurant’s peculiar location – about 50 feet from El Coyote, a landmark Mexican joint since 1931. Seeing it as we entered Petty Cash reminded me of what I wrote a few years ago, after attending my first game at new Yankee Stadium, while the old stadium had yet to be razed: “Seeing the old stadium across the street made me feel like I was at my new, hot young girlfriend’s place, peeking through the curtains at my ex-wife’s house. Sure, the missus and I had a lot of good times, but she’s old and smelly now.”

Sorry, ISIS.

Dunkin’ Donuts opened in LA for the first time this week, with non-stop news coverage and lines around the corner. I managed to get my hands on a box of Munchkins, and they were downright sacrilicious.

She’ll Be Extra Missed.

A few years back, I met Joan Rivers’ assistant, and really wanted to know what Joan was like.

“Amazing,” she said. “She treats me like a daughter.”

Considering how well Joan treated Melissa, yesterday was all the more shitty.

What I Think Every Dude Should Know.

I’m gonna take up smoking and drinking, so that my hands are always full and no one can ask me to help them move.

But I always have time to offer advice. After the utterly clueless job my dad did raising my brothers and I, I very much enjoy helping someone shortcut the traps of adulthood. On his bar mitzvah two years ago, I wrote ten things I thought my friend Jeff’s son Jake should know as he became a man. On Saturday, I wrote ten more for Jeff’s younger son, Sam:

1. Every man innately wants to fix his woman’s problems, but what she really wants is for you to just listen. Memorize this phrase: “I understand.”
2. There’s no law that says you have to get married or own a home.
3. On job interviews, always maintain the attitude that they’d be really lucky to have you.
4. Be so friendly to people that if someone were to say you were a bad guy, no one would believe him.
5. No matter what problem you have, deep down you know how to fix it.
6. Everything worthwhile is going to be unbelievably difficult to achieve. But you’ll enjoy it that much more when you get it.
7. Make discipline a habit. Make practicing your guitar for hours every day a normal thing. That’s what successful people do.
8. People just want to feel appreciated. Tip well. Write thank-you notes. Never show up empty-handed.
9. Never go more than nine miles-per-hour over the speed limit and you will never get pulled over.
10. If you text a woman twice, and get no reply, game over. Persistence only works in movies; in reality it just says “stalker.”

My Friend Jeff’s Son’s Bar Mitzvah: An iPhone™ Photo Gallery.

His son chose a basketball theme, which harkened back to the freakiest period in American history – the 1940s – when Jewish NBA players were the norm.

The after-party featured inflatable pop-a-shots and yummy food carts. Jeff said the entire shebang cost more than his wedding.

Though it looks like they were left with a limited sports pennant budget.

As has become tradition: Pit Bull wearing a yarmulke.

Weekend All-Stars.

Forget about getting knocked up – if you want to trap me into marriage, just tell me this will be on our wedding registry. Best chocolate ice cream I’ve ever had.

As much as we punish the folks who drink and drive, how about honoring this guy for sleeping it off?

I can finally cross “black man on a jumbo unicycle” off my bucket list.

Catchy.

Congratulations to my friend John, who finally got his bag from Heathrow Airport. May he never again have to flip his underwear four days in a row.