Heartbreak Hotel

I always wondered what bored billionaires do. Because if you think about it, they’ve probably done it all, right? Jumped out of airplanes (morons), rode elephants, sailed around the world in a boat (morons), bought tropical islands, rubbed elbows with the stars (morons) and collected every vehicle they dreamt about since they were little… just to name a few things. Well, I found out what one of ‘em does when I went to his hotel to have lunch the other day at the Four Seasons Westlake Village.

Now before I go on, just take that in for a moment…

…Four Seasons Westlake Village.

To me, that’s another moron… an oxymoron.  

There’s the Four Seasons London, the Four Season Tokyo, the Four Seasons Milan, the Four Seasons St. Petersburg, the Four Seasons Paris, the Four Seasons Hong Kong (just to name a few), and the Four Seasons… Westlake Village. Do you hear that slow, steady, high-pitched squeaking? That’s hot air seeping out of a deflating balloon. Or the taco I ate yesterday… one of the two.

If you were to utter “How disappointing” right at this moment, it would be a major understatement.

My point is, who the hell in their right mind goes to vacation in Westlake friggin’ Village?! This “Dole” guy, the one who owns the hotel, thinks there are a lot of people who would. The Dole to which I’m referring is… yep, the pineapple guy! I can’t make this shit up, people. A canned pineapple guy wants world-traveling jet-setters to come to Westlake Village to vacation. And apparently, to hold onto their youth too, because the hotel is a “Longevity Center and Spa” as well as a hotel managed by a world-class company.

*snicker*      *snort*       *guffaw*

Okay, okay I have to admit, WLV (Westlake Village) competes with BH (Beverly Hills) for the most nips, tucks and sucks for both men and women, and the only natural breasts you’re gonna find there are the ones on the fresh roasted turkey at Gelson’s supermarket, so I get the “longevity” thing. But there’s nothing world-class about WLV. Unless you consider The Housewives’ franchise compelling television, then it’s world-class.

So this bored billionaire has a hotel, and let me just say this: He has zero taste; the place is hideous. As you enter, it almost takes your breath away… and not in a good way either. You initially have hope that it’s going to be spectacular, then you see a giant, ornate crystal chandelier juxtaposed with what can only be described as “stuffy lawyer’s office” decor. It’s like a cross between Bette Midler, Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump.

Like I said, hideous.

I went there to luncheon with… Jesus Christ, I just said “luncheon”… this kooky doctor who practices Functional Medicine, whatever the hell that means! I guess it’s some new-age, hocus-pocus healing practice where they align your chakras, stick needles in your face, and then try to sell you Amway. 


Amway… I mean, anyway, forget why I was there with a kooky, new-age doctor, let’s talk about the food. 

I ordered a sandwich.

Now if I thought 10 bucks was a lot of dough *snicker* for a shitty sandwich, like the one in my last post, this one was astronomical. It was double the price, which nearly gave me a goddamn heart attack! Luckily I was luncheon…ing with a doctor, even if she was kooky.

I ordered their vegetarian sandwich on account of I was still trying to eat healthily. Well forget that shit because as soon as they brought out some bread and butter, I was in it to win it! That was a mistake. As soon as I bit into a piece I almost chipped a tooth on the stuff; it was like hard leather! They happen to offer dentistry services there at the “Longevity” center, so I guess they start out your stay by breaking some of your goddamn teeth. What lacked in tenderness though was made up for with absolutely nothing because the flavor was awful too. 

My sandwich was composed of grilled eggplant and portabella with fennel slaw, swiss cheese, sprouts, arugula pesto and a spicy harrissa vinaigrette served on tomato foccaccia. Sounds delicious, right? Well it shoulda been, but somehow Dole managed to make it completely tasteless, and really, it makes complete sense because we’re talking about someone who makes canned pineapple for a living. Plus his decor is tasteless, so there you go. The eggplant and portabella were dry and rubbery, so when I bit into it with my now fragile teeth, it was like biting into a bicycle tire. I couldn’t discern any fennel slaw or arugula pesto flavor either, and harrissa, which is normally a gorgeous, fruity, spicy pepper relish with tons of flavor, was dumbed down with mayonnaise; hardly a “vinaigrette” as they called it. The greens that were served on the side were delicious, but there were dry because the dressing was pooled at the bottom of the plate, and I have yet to meet someone who doesn’t want to toss my salad.

The only thing that saved this dish was the view overlooking the waterfall made from the gigantic boulders that the Dole guy had supposedly transported from Thailand. That was nice. I guess. 

So that answers my question about what bored billionaires do after they’ve done it all. They open hotels and serve bland food.

How boring.

Four Seasons Hotel, Lobby Lounge restaurant

Two Dole Drive

Westlake Village, CA


Categories: Best food blog, Food, Funny, Humor, Sandwiches, Sarcasm, Satire | Tags: , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Loathe Thy Neighbor

So there’s this site called, a neighborhood-specific social networking site where you join your own neighborhood and other, neighboring… uh… neighborhoods, and get to know everyone that lives around you. You know… neighbors… but anyway, you do it online, not in person, which, for me, is perfect!

Just because I don’t know all my neighbors by now and have to go online to this site to meet everybody, doesn’t mean I have a social problem you know. I just know what I like (food, sex) and what I don’t like (people, morons) so I guess I’m just a Girl (Clever) that happens to know what she likes!

This online thing is a great way of getting to know your neighbors and not seeing them or having to speak to them directly, which would only lead to arguments over things like their goddamn leaf blower making too much goddamn noise… or their snotty-nosed brats screaming in the middle of the day… oh, and the goddamn dog barking all the time… and, and must you have your loud friends over every goddamn Sunday?! Seriously, why do you allow your kids to leave their bikes and toys strewn all over the front lawn? Can’t you fix that sprinkler since it’s wasting water?… and finally, do you have to park that goddamn shitty car right in front of my house? Why can’t you park it down the street in front of Mr. Smith’s house? It’s a whole lot shittier looking than mine?! Why, huh? HUH?!

Right now the site is doing this thing called “Celebrate Good Neighbors”. It’s where you get to post something nice about something your neighbor/s did for you, and thank them:

“Hey neighbor! Thanks for all your help this past year, taking out my trash cans while I was away, watering my lawn, helping me fix my roof, you know, all that neat stuff. Just wanted to say “Thanks” here online… on this social networking site… because I’m too goddamn lazy to walk next door and thank you in person… and I don’t wanna see you anyway. Hope you enjoyed this message!”


What do you say about your neighbors when you don’t really know any of them, or are only having sex with them and don’t know their last names though? I don’t need to know their last names. Who ever calls their neighbors by Mr. Smith anymore anyway? I mean, rea…


At least I always wave to the little Chinese kid when his parents take him for a walk, isn’t that good enough? Why do I have to announce it online and thank them for waving back… and being Chinese? Or maybe they’re Japanese… or… gosh, I’m not sure what they are. I wish they’d get on this stupid site and announce what kind of people they are. I mean, don’t I have the right to know who the hell is living next door to me?! What if they’re terrorists? Maybe I should sneak over late at night and look through their garbage and discarded mail and peer into their windows so I can know exactly who these people are and what they’re doing here in our precious little country! Look, the NSA is doing it, so that must mean that’s it’s legal and ethical and…

…wait a minute… maybe they’re spying on me! Maybe that’s why they walk by my house every day with the little kid…. maybe that kid is just a decoy! You know how clever those Chinese are, they’re good at everything… AND, they’re beating us at our own game! That’s if they’re even Chinese!

Shit.roasted veg

I had to ponder all this stuff over some food since I was hungry and I never think clearly unless my piehole has been sufficiently stuffed with nourishment that’s hopefully friggin’ delicious. I ended up in Agoura Hills of all places (talk about asshole neighbors) and they’ve been upgrading their strip malls and building more sterile, cookie-cutter shopping centers so that white people can feel more safe and secure when spending all their money on useless items. I was at the “old” mall, the Whizin’s shopping center, which is the bastard child of Agoura Hills since it hasn’t been updated since, like 1892… but they have some really, really cool, overpriced places there!

I’ve been wanting to eat at Blue Table for a while now since their food always looks really good. They call themselves a gourmet deli/market/wine bar. It’s got a deli case, hot and cold sammys, entrees, and stuff you can buy and take home with you, like homemade desserts and pasta. You know how you go to a place that’s got a deli case and all the food looks sooo delicious, then you get it, it’s not as tasty as it looked in the deli case? Well, this was my experience… sort of… but it’s not all their fault since I ordered oven-roasted veggies, when what I really wanted was the delicious-looking masterpiece called a Timpano.

Timpano is a dish that has tube pasta, cheese and sauce, and sometimes other stuff like meats, veggies or egg, and baked in some type of dough, like a big, fat, oversized Quiche! Italians are always bigger than the French… in so many ways! But maybe not as big as Colombians… hmm… but anyway… I really wanted thatbut didn’t get it because my stomach had been on protest the past few days, so I opted for the stupid veggies instead. It’s not that they were bad… just not great. The roasted veggies weren’t roasted enough, and the brussels sprouts, which could have been amazing with their orange zest and sweet vermouth, were undercooked and hard as bullets. I should have asked them to heat my dish since everything was served cold; it would’ve been much better warm. But I took the leftovers home and put the brussels sprouts on the BBQ the next evening… and they were fantastic! 

The only other thing that bothered me about the place, was the big communal table in the middle of the seating area. First off, the word “communal” is a little too close to the word “communist” for me… and do I have to get to know my neighbors everywhere I go?

The Blue Table

28912 Roadside Drive

Agoura Hills, CA


Categories: Brunch, Food, Humor, Pastries, Sandwiches, Satire | Tags: , , , , , | 5 Comments

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