So my brother is hot shit at the restaurant.
But why should he be surprised?
We are descendants from a long lineage of super secret, highly trained dishwashing commandos that stretches all the way back to the days before the relocation.
Back to the days when the giant turtle crawled out of the hole in the ground.
It's like a high mesa type of Harry Potter type thing, only with dishwashing taking the place of magic and wizarding.
Anyways, I am happy for him coming into his own like this.
I remember my days in the restaurants, I miss them dearly and look forward to the
day when I can return to the burrito shack.
A joint burns eternally awaiting my return.
At least that is what I am told.
I made two delicious pizzas for dinner, and they turned out great.
And I attempted to bridge a gap between my brother in law.
I am no civic engineer.
lovmatthew
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No dick heads please.