Selfish, salsa-recipe-hoarding bastard.

*shakes fist and grimaces*

It comforts me to know that the Universe achieves equilibrium by making a 78 year old man work 6 days a week to make up for all the slacking I do.

I suppose this is as good of a place as any...

'Bout 10 years ago or so, I travelled to El Paso with a group of co-workers. It was equal parts fundraising trip and party trip (but that's neither here nor there). Anyway, at lunchtime one day, two of us went out to get sandwiches for the group of 10.

My buddy Lou knew of a downtown sandwich shop that made killer aguas frescas, so we went there. Translating the sandwich menu gave us some problems, though. It went something like this:

1. Chicken, avocado, winnie
2. Ham, cheese, winnie
3. Roast beef, onions, winnie

Whatever. We didn't worry about it because the canteloupe shakes and avocado shakes were so fucking good -- we figured the sandwiches had to be as well.

We ordered a bunch of sandwiches, took them back to the hotel, and distributed them to the coworkers.

[Sound of sandwiches being unwrapped, hungry people chomping down...]

A hush fell across the room, then, on staggered cues, several people said "Hey, why is there a hot dog on my sandwich??"

Anyway. It was really funny at the time, but it could have been the inebriation.

Am I a bad person if the first person who came to mind after reading that story was Winnie Mandela?

Am I a worse person if I admit to a mental image of Nelson Mandela standing at a lectern next to a giant bewigged frankfurter in a dress?

Maybe he forgot the secret recipe.

"WHEREAS, His winning recipes, including a closely guarded
one for a secret sauce, have attracted a large and loyal following
as well as numerous celebrities, including Paul Rodriguez and
members of the band N'Sync;" - H.R. No. 84 bill text

Hugh, I dunno, what kept going through my mind was Kinky Friedman's song "Proud to be an Asshole From El Paso."